AV/r1! 


»       <v  ^      jj 
*4W?   i** 


Now  the  axe,  Josh  !  "  cried  Willie  Grant. 


[Page  319. 


IN 

THE    DASHITO    DAYS 
OF    OLD; 

OB, 

of  Milin  (grant. 


GORDON  STABLES,  C.M.,  M.D.,  R.N. 

MJTHOR   OP   "ON   SPECIAL  SERVICE,"   "THE   CRDISE  OP  THE   SNOWBIRD,' 
"WILD  ADVENTURES  ROUND  THE   POLE,"    ETC.,   ETC. 


WITH  EIGHT  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  M.  IRW1N. 


NEW    YOKE: 

THOMAS  WHITTAKER, 
2  &  3,  BIBLE  HOUSE. 


7 


TO  HIS  GALLANT  FEIEXD  AND  BROTHER  OF  THE  PEN, 

CAPTAIN    PERCY    GROVES, 

(LATE  IJTHISKIHEN  DBAGOOHS), 

THIS   BOOK   IS    INSCRIBED   WITH 

KINDLIEST  WISHES, 

BY 

THE   AUTHOR. 


961S78 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I. 

SCHOOLBOY  LIFE  IN  SCOTLAND. 

CHAP.  PAGE 

I.    IN  A  LONESOME  LAND 

II.  IN  WOODS  AND  WILDS 26 

III.  ARRIVAL  OF  A  STRANGE  STRANGER    .        .        .        .39 

IV.  ON  INDIAN  SHORES 52 

V.    THE  MOUNTAIN  CRUSOES 63 

VI.  THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  CAVE,  AND  How  IT  ENDED     .  77 

VII.  A  CRISIS  IN  His  LIFE  HAD  COME      ....  92 

BOOK    II. 
UNDER   THE  PENNANT. 

I.    JOINING  THE  SERVICE 107 

II.     LIFE  IN  THE  OLD  HULK 120 

III.  "PLAIN  JACK  WILLIAMS" 130 

IV.  CONTAINING  A  LITTLE  FUN  AND  A  LITTLE  FIGHTING  141 
V.    "  I  WILL  GIVE  MY  SWORD  TO  FRANCE  !  "  .        .        .  151 

VI.    "  A  MAN'S  A  MAN  FOR  A'  THAT  "       .  162 

VII.  WHICH  ENDS  WITH  QUITE  A  WONDERFUL  ADVENTURE  175 

VIII.  FURTHER  FUN  AND  STRANGER  ADVENTURES      .        .  187 
IX.    A  DASHING  ENGAGEMENT 199 

X.    JOLLITY  IN  CABIN  AND  ROUND  THE  GALLEY-FIRE     .  210 

XL    MIDSHIPMAN'S  PRANKS 223 

XII.    AN  IDYLLIC  VOYAGE 234 

XIII.    AMONG  PIRATES  :  DEMONS  OF  THE  SEA                      .  246 


Contents. 


BOOK    III. 

CHAP. 
I. 

IN  THE  FAR   WEST. 
A  HERO'S  DEATH.    A  JACK-TAR'S  WEDDING    . 

PAGR 

.     259 

II. 

WITH  A  CONVOY  TO  THE  WEST  INDIES     . 

.    272 

III. 

CONTAINING  MANY  STRANGE  ADVENTURES 

.     283 

IV. 

AMEN  !     GOD  BLESS  YOU,  DEM  ! 

.     296 

V. 

INNOCENT—  BUT  PREPARED  TO  DIE     .        .     '  .s 

.     310 

VI. 

THE  CRUSOES  OF  ANTICOSTI        .... 

.     322 

VII. 

FIGHTING  IN  CANADA  

.     336 

VIII. 

THE  WHITE  OWL  TO  THE  RESCUE 

.     346 

IX. 

THE  BATTLE  AT  THE  FORT          .... 

.     356 

X. 

LIKE  A  BIRD  ON  THE  WAVE       .... 

.     369 

,  ttc. 


I.  Time— From  1806  till  close  of  the  war  in  1815. 

II.  Scenes— Here  and  there  in  many  lands. 

III. — Principal  Characters  in  the  Story:— 


WILLIE  GRANT:  DEM  RUTHERFORD: 

One  of  Nature's  gentlemen,  who  knew       An  Anglo-Indian,  full  of  Indian  fire  and 
his  duty  and  did  it.  English  independence. 


POOD  AH  :    a  man  with  a  mystery. 


CAPTAIN    OLDREY, 
Of  the  Castile:   a  "heart  of  oak.' 


Dramatis  Personce. 


DR.    CURYER, 

bis  surgeon :  a  man  who  loved 

Nature  and  hated  the  "  cat." 


FIRST      LIEUTENANT 

> HAYES  I 

Full  of  zeal  for  the  service. 


SECOND    LIEUTENANT    BUCHANAN  I 
A  brave  Scot  with  a  grave  failing. 

CAPTAIN     BUCKR.AM, 
of  the  Marines  :  as  stiff  as  a  poker  and  as  hard  as  steel. 

PAYMASTER    PERKINS  I 
A  fussy  wee  purser. 

PLAIN  JACK  WILLIAMS: 

A  midship?na7i. 


LONG    TOM    THUMWOOD 
Something  like  a  signalman. 

LITTLE    BOY    JOSH  I 
A  waif  from  the  wilds. 


THE    HON.    DE    GREY  I 
A  midsLipnn'te  of  the  real  old  type. 

MR.  HARNESS: 

Mate  of  the  Dardanelle,  a  scoundrel  of  the 
old  school. 

IV.  Ordinary  Cliaracters  :— 
Jack  -  Tars    and    Joe  - 

Marines ;    cooks, 
clerks,    and    stewards  ; 
dogs,  mates,  monkeys, 
and  loblolly  boys ;     . 
a  few  old  women  and  a  <' 
girl  or  two,  etc. 


ILLUSTRATION?, 


A  Wreck  and  a  Fire. 

Schoolboy  Life  in  Scotland. 

Keeper  McGregor  and  the  Apparition. 

Boy  Bedouins. 
Under   the    Pennant. 

Joining  the  Service. 
The  Great  Snapping  Turtle. 

A  Flag  of  Truce. 
A   Fair   Companion. 

In  the  Far  West. 
A  well-deserved  Punishment. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

IN   A   LONESOME   LAND. 

'  MY  heather  land,  my  heather  land  ! 

Though  fairer  lands  there  be, 
Thy  gowanie  braes  in  early  days 
Were  gowden  ways  to  me. 

Must  life's  poor  boon  go  darkening  doon, 

ISTor  die  where  it  had  dawned, 
But  seek  a  grave  beyond  the  wave  ? 

Alas  !  ray  heather  land  !" 

— Thorn. 

E  are  not  too  late  yet,  at  all  events,"  said 
Willie  Grant  to  his  friend  and  companion. 
"  We  are  not  too  late  yet,  are  we,  Dem  ?" 
Dem  did  not  reply  at  once.  He  was 
a  cautious  boy.  But  he  grew  suddenly  serious.  He 
threw  down  a  flat  stone  that  he  had  been  just  about  to 
make  skip  across  a  wild-duck  pond,  and  gazed  for  a 
moment  at  the  distant  school-house  near  the  larch-tree 
wood,  on  the  other  side  of  the  glen.  Between  the  school 
and  the  place  where  the  boys  were  standing,  there  was 
first  and  foremost  a  long  expanse  of  flat,  heathy  moor- 
land, 

ll 


12  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

The  Leather  here  was  still  green,  and  the  moor  was 
dotted  over  with  low-lying  bushes  of  bright  golden  gorse, 
for  the  summer  was  still  very  young.  Beyond  this,  and 
stretching  miles  upon  miles  from  east  to  west,  was  a 
rocky  and  densely  wooded  ravine.  Here  grew  the  tallest 
pine  trees  and  the  highest,  darkest,  and  thickest  spruce 
trees  in  all  the  country  side ;  but  tall  and  high  thougli 
they  were,  they  did  not  obscure  the  view,  for  their 
topmost  branches  or  tapering  points  alone  were  visible 
above  the  moorland.  Beyond  this  wood  was  a  series 
of  beetling  rocks  and  precipices,  then  fields,  and  then 
the  school. 

Dem  took  all  this  in  and  judged  the  distance  at  a 
single  glance.  Then  he  turned  round  and  had  a  good 
look  at  the  sun  and  the  distant  mountains  that  bounded 
the  south-eastern  horizon,  after  which  he  addressed  his 
friend  as  follows, — 

"Well,  Willie,"  he  said,  "we  can  do  it.  It  is  half- 
past  nine  by  the  sun.  If  we  are  not  in  by  five  minutes 
after  ten,  you  know  what  we'll  catch.  But  I  think  we 
can  do  it,  if  we  cross  the  burn  and  don't  mind  wetting 
our  feet." 

"  Because  you  know,  Dem,"  added  Willie,  "  we  never 
yet  have  played  truant;  and  I  wouldn't  like  to  begin, 
would  you  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Dem.     "  So  come  on,  let  us  run." 

They  had  to  go  all  round  the  wild-duck  pond  that 
Willie  had  been  skipping  stones  across.  But  they  kept 
as  close  to  the  water's  edge  as  possible,  even  splashing 


In  a  Lonesome  Place.  13 

through  the  water  itself  sometimes,  in  order  to  cut  off 
corners,  and  jumping  high  over  the  rush  bushes. 

"  Hurrah!"  cried  Willie,  rushing  on  in  quite  a  reckless 
kind  of  a  way,  "  hurrah  !  my  feet  are  wet  already.  This 
is  a  regular  steeple-chase." 

"  So  are  mine,"  echoed  Dem.  "  Hurrah  !  for  a  hop, 
step,  and  jump." 

The  hop  and  the  step  were  right  enough,  and  dry 
enough,  but  the  jump  landed  him  in  a  pool  which  took 
him  up  over  his  knees. 

Willie  laughed,  and  stopped  a  moment  to  help  his 
friend  out,  when,  from  some  rush  bushes  not  fifteen 
yards  away,  up  started  a  wild  drake. 

"  Whirr — rr,  whirr — rr! "  went  the  drake,  flying  heavily 
and  with  outstretched  neck,  as  ducks  do. 

"  Oh,  look,  Dem,  look  !  "  cried  Willie,  mad  with  excite- 
ment. "Let  us  search  for  the  nest,"  he  continued, 
clapping  his  hands  with  joy.  "  It  is  bound  to  be  here, 
you  know.  I  always  did  feel  sure  the  wild  ducks  built 
about  this  pond,  though  we  never  yet  found  a  nest." 

Dem  gave  one  more  glance  at  the  distant  school-house, 
then, — 

"  Yes,"  he  said ;  "  we're  bound  to  find  it  in  about  five 
minutes.  You  go  round  that  way,  and  I'll  go  this  ;  the 
duck  is  sure  to  lie  close,  so  don't  miss  a  single  likely 
bush." 

The  five  minutes  soon  fled  away,  and  so  did  five  minutes 
more,  and  five  to  that,  but  at  last, — oh,  joy  !  "  Whirr 
— ack,  whirr — ack,  whirr — rr  ! " 


14  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Up  flew  the  duck,  and  off ;  and  next  minute  Dem  and 
Willie  stood  in  ecstasies  gazing  down  upon  the  large  and 
lovely  eggs  that  the  nest  contained. 

"One,  two,"  cried  Willie,  counting,  "six,  seven, 
nine,  eleven  eggs.  Oh !  aren't  we  in  luck,  Dem  ?  Why, 
I  never  had  a  nest  like  this  the  whole  of  last  summer." 

Dem  was  deep  in  thought.  No ;  I  am  sorry  to  say 
it  was  not  school  he  was  thinking  about,  but  simply 
those  charming  egga. 

To  rob  the  poor  duck  was  wrong,  he  knew,  and  yet 
to  do  so  was  a  sore  temptation. 

"When  Miss  Wilson,"  he  said  slowly,  still  gazing  at 
the  eggs,  "  met  you  and  me,  Willie,  last  summer,  carrying 
a  nest  of  gaping  thrushes,  she  stopped  us,  and  told  us 
it  was  very,  very  cruel.  She  is  the  minister's  daughter, 
and  ought  to  know.  Well,  I  think  she  was  right;  and 
when  you  and  I  carried  back  the  nest,  and  put  it  in  the 
same  place  in  the  same  spruce  tree  where  we  found  it, 
we  did  right." 

"We  did,  Dem." 

"  But  here,  I  think,  is  a  different  case.  Very  likely 
the  duck,  having  seen  that  we  have  found  the  nest, 
will '  forhooit/  *  and  build  somewhere  else ;  so  I  think 
we  may  as  well  call  these  eggs  ours.  Besides,  they  are 
good  for  food." 

"Yes,"  assented  Willie,  "so  long  as  there  aren't 
birds  in  them." 

*  Scottice=desert  it. 


In  a  Lonesome  Place.  15 

"  Eight,  Willie,"  said  Dem,  "  so  long  as  there  aren't 
birds  in  them.  Now  just  let  us  try  one." 

Dem  took  a  long  steel  needle  from  a  pocket-book  as 
he  spoke.  It  was  the  same  pocket-book  he  kept  his  gut 
and  his  flies  in,  for  fishing  purposes.  He  very  quickly 
drilled  a  hole  in  an  egg,  and  lo  !  a  tiny  drop  of  pure, 
translucent  albumen. 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Willie.  "Now,  Dem,  Til  empty 
my  bag  ;  you  shall  carry  all  the  books,  and  I'll  pack  the 
eggs  in  grass  and  carry  them." 

The  two  boys  set  off  now  to  walk  schoolwards.  They 
ran  no  more ;  they  were  silent  and  moody. 

They  saw  the  poor  bereaved  duck  running  half-dis- 
tractedly  about  among  the  sedges  and  grass.  There  was 
grief  in  her  every  movement,  and  grief  in  her  very  eyes. 

The  boys  looked  the  other  way.  They  felt  and  knew 
they  had  done  wrong. 

Dem  spoke  at  last. 

"  It  .is  a  kind  of  pity,  after  all,"  he  said,  "  we  took 
these  eggs ;  I  shan't  enjoy  eating  them  much.  If  we 
had  only  taken  two,  now." 

"  Yes,"  said  Willie,  "  two  as  specimens,  as  we  did  of 
the  hawk's  and  the  owl's  and  the  magpie's." 

"It  can't  be  helped,"  said  Dem.  "But  oh!  Willie, 
we're  late  for  school." 

"  We  can't  go  to-day,"  Willie  remarked  doggedly. 

"  No,  that  is  impossible/'  said  Dem,  in  the  same  frame 
of  mind. 

"  And  after  all,  you  know,  it  isn't   more  than  other 


16  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

boys  have  done,  and  often  do.  But  it  is  our  first  time, 
we  couldn't  really  help  it." 

"  Ah  !  but  won't  we  catch  it,  Willie  ! " 

"  Yes,  we  will  catch  it,"  said  Willie,  "  sure  enough." 

Willie  sat  down  upon  one  stone  and  Dem  sat  down 
upon  another. 

' ( I'm  going  to  pull  off  my  stockings,"  Dem  said,  "  and 
wring  them.  Then  they  will  soon  dry  when  I  put  them 
on  again." 

"Well,"  said  Willie,  "I  shall  do  the  same.  Here 
goes." 

"  But  yours  are  not  wet,  are  they  ?  You  didn't  jump 
into  a  hole." 

"  Oh !  but  I  did,  though,"  replied  Willie,  with  a  long, 
earnest  face.  "  I  did  jump  into  a  hole  on  purpose.  Do 
you  think  I  was  going  to  go  with  dry  feet  when  yours 
were  wet.  No  ! " 

Were  these  boys  brothers  ?  it  maybe  asked.  Brothers 
in  a  thousand  ways,  and  more  than  brothers  in  some, 
but  not  brothers  by  consanguinity,  no,  nor  even  blood 
relations. 

Orphans  we  might  almost  call  them,  for  their  mothers 
had  died  when  they  were  very  young  indeed,  and  their 
fathers  were  away  in  foreign  lands.  Willie  Grant  had 
been  living  in  the  Highland  parish  where  we  first  find 
them,  for  over  five  years,  during  which  time  his  father 
had  come  but  twice  to  see  him.  A  merchant  skipper  he 
was, — rough  enough,  in  all  conscience,  but  probably  right 
enough  for  all  that.  He  did  not  speak  much ;  perhaps, 


In  a  Lonesome  Place.  17 

like  the  Irishman's  parrot,  he  thought  the  more.  But 
one  promise  Willie  had  elicited  from  his  father  the  last 
time  they  had  been  together,  and  just  before  they  parted. 
What  it  was  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  scrap 
of  conversation. 

"  I  will,  I  will/'  said  the  father ;  "  I'll  take  you  with 
me  to  sea  when  you  are  thirteen  years  of  age.  Ah ! 
lad,  perhaps  you'll  be  glad  enough  to  get  back  here 
again  after  a  bit.  If  I  could  live  in  the  bonnie  place, 
catch  me  go  to  sea.  Ha  !  ha  !  I'd  know  a  trick  worth 
ten  o'  that.  But  look,  see  lad,  all  you  have  got  to  do 
for  the  present  is  to  eat  and  read  and  learn.  I  hope 
they  give  you  plenty  to  eat  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  father;  plenty,  father,  plenty." 

"  And  you  are  coming  well  on  at  school,  your  teacher 
says.  I'm  glad  o'  that,  lad.  Well,  I'll  send  you  more 
books.  One  is  a  natural  history  book  ;  you  like  that  ?" 

"  Yes,  father." 

"  Tells  you  all  about  every  bird  and  beast  and  tree 
and  flower  that  grows  in  these  same  British  islands/' 

"  And  what  else,  father  ?" 

"  Why,  lad,  I  bought  a  whole  lot  of  novels  in  a  box 
at  a  sale,  for  next  to  nought.  Sea  stories  some  of  them 
are,  my  boy.  Aye,  and  there  is  the  right  ring  about 
them  too.  If  there  is  a  bit  o'  imagination  about  you, 
you'll  hear  the  wind  roaring  through  the  rigging  and 
shrouds  as  you  read  them,  and  see  the  vicious,  angry 
seas  curling  higher  than  the  maintop,  or  breaking  in 
over  the  bows,  and  rushing  aft  with  the  force  of  a 


18  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

cataract.  Then  I've  got  you  voyages  and  travels;  and 
something  better  than  all,  boy, — something  better  than 
all." 

"  What  is  it  ?     What  can  be  better,  father  ?" 

"  The  '  Arabian  Nights/  lad." 

"What  are  they,  father  ?" 

"  What  are  they  !  Let  me  see,  I  can't  well  tell  you. 
You've  never  seen  a  pantomime,  nor  a  tragedy,  else  I'd 
say  that  the  '  Arabian  Nights '  is  better  than  a  hundred 
pantomimes  rolled  into  one,  with  fifty  tragedies  thrown 
in,  to  keep  them  well  together.  But  mind,  boy,  these 
books  are  only  for  reading  in  your  idle'  time.  Mind 
your  Latin,  lad,  and  your  Euclid,  and  your  logarithms, 
lad, — and  read  your  Bible  too,  boy.  Heigho  !  I  wish 
I  was  a  boy  again." 

"  Father,  I  wish  I  were  a  man." 

"Ha!  you  think  so  now.  But  wait  till  you  get 
older." 

"  Father,  I  do  miss  companions  very  much.  I  have 
plenty  at  school,  but  no  one  comes  this  way ;  and  Miss 
McBride  isn't  a  companion,  you  know." 

"  What,  the  lady  that  keeps  you  ?  Well,  no,  boy  ; 
but  she  minds  your  socks,  and  sees  to  your  shoes,  and 
takes  care  you  have  good  clothes,  and  puts  you  to  bed 
afc  night." 

"  Oh,  no,  father  !  I  was  twelve  last  birthday.  I  always 
say  '  good-night '  to  Miss  McBride,  and  go  to  bed 
myself." 

"  Well,  well ;  only,  I  pay  her  plenty  of  money  for  you, 


Iii  a  Lonesome  Place.  19 

and  I  believe  she  does  you  well.  But  stay,  I  had  almost 
forgotten,  lad.  I'vo  something  else  to  tell  you  before 
I  go." 

"Yes,  father." 

"  There  is  a  gentleman,  a  Colonel  Rutherford,  I  have 
taken  out  to  India  and  back  twice  now.  He  has 
a  son.  His  mother  is  dead,  poor  boy,  as  your  dear 
mother  is,  and  if  I  can  persuade  him — the  Colonel— 
he  shall  send  his  son  James  here  to  McBride's.  He  is 
not  so  strong  as  you,  though  a  year  or  two  older.  He 
is  an  Anglo-Indian,  so  you'd  need  to  take  care  of  him." 

"  Oh,  father,  I  should  bo  so  delighted  !  " 

"  Mind,  though,  I  don't  promise;  but  I  do  promise  to 
take  you  to  sea  at  thirteen,  if  you're  good  and  make 
bones,  and  mind  the  teaching  o'  the  good  Book,  and 
attend  well  to  your  Latin  and  your  logarithms." 

After  Willie's  father  had  gone,  the  boy  thought  the 
time  very  long  indeed  waiting  for  the  promised  box ; 
but  the  old  carrier  that  jogged  twice  a  week  betwixt 
Inverinch  and  Abergair  brought  it  at  last,  and  to 
Willie's  joy  it  contained  all  his  father  had  promised, 
and  a  good  deal  more.  Willie  made  up  his  mind  that 
he  would  not  devour  the  contents  of  those  valuable 
books  too  quickly;  for  he  argued,  "I  cannot  have  my 
cake  and  eat  it  too."  So  he  stuck  harder  to  his  studies 
than  he  had  done  before,  and  only  took  a  book  out  for 
a  treat  when  he  thought  he  deserved  it,  or  when  he 
felt  very  lonely  indeed. 

It  was  a  lonesome  country  in  which  Willie  lived,  and 


20  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Miss  McBride's  house  was  a  good  mile  from  any  other. 
Miss  McBride  does  not  figure  much  in  our  story,  so 
it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  she  was  the  pensioner  sister 
of  a  general,  who  had  taken  Willie  as  a  boarder  partly 
because  she  knew  his  father,  and  partly  perhaps  because 
it  added  a  trifle  to  her  income. 

Miss  McBride  was  a  martyr  to  rheumatism,  or  thought 
she  was ;  she  lay  long  a-bed  of  a  morning,  and  retired 
very  early  at  night,  so  that  Willie's  sense  of  freedom 
was  unbounded. 

The  house  was  a  better-class  farm-house  or  cottage  ; 
and  the  only  other  inmate  was  old  Tibbie,  who  cooked 
the  food  and  milked  the  two  cows,  and  in  fact  did  all 
the  work,  out-doors  and  in.  Old  Tibbie  was  Willie's 
particular  friend.  Not  that  she  was  very  old,  either ; 
but  she  had  roughed  it  in  life,  and  at  fifty  was  wrinkled 
and  grey.  But  stout  and  strong  she  was,  as  a  five-year 
old  Shetland  pony.  Oh !  the  tales  she  used  to  tell 
Willie  in  the  long  forenights  of  winter,  as  they  sat  by 
the  kitchen  fire, — she  at  one  side  with  her  cutty  pipe, 
Willie  at  the  other,  and  the  cat  between. 

She  had  seen  fairies  in  her  time,  had  old  Tibbie,  at 
least  she  averred  so, — and  ghosts  too ;  and  she  believed 
in  boddachs  and  brownies  and  water  kelpies  and  spunkies, 
yes,  and  in  witches  and  warlocks  as  well.  It  was  of 
these  she  spoke,  it  was  to  tales  about  these  that  Willie 
was  fond  of  listening.  And  the  wilder  the  nights 
without,  the  cosier  it  seemed  within,  beside  that  old- 
fashioned  hearth,  with  the  wind  "  howthering  "  round 


In  a  Lonesome  Place.  21 

the  chimney,  and  the  snow  perhaps  sifting  in  beneath 
the  door  or  through  the  key-hole. 

It  was  a  lonesome  country  in  which  Willie  lived,  and 
it  was  wild  as  well  as  lonesome.  Here  were  mountain 
and  moorland,  streamlet  and  tarn,  rocks  and  glens  and 
waving  forests,  and  not  very  far  off  the  great  wide  ocean 
itself,  the  roar  of  which  among  the  broken  boulders 
that  formed  the  beach  ceased  not  day  nor  night ;  for 
even  in  calm  weather,  as  the  tide  rose  and  fell  in  ebb 
cr  flow,  each  wave  hurtled  forward,  or  sucked  back 
with  it,  millions  of  stones  worn  smooth  and  round  by 
the  motion  of  the  ever  restless  waves. 

Down  near  the  beach,  where  a  mountain  stream 
that  inland  was  noisy  and  brawling  enough,  glided 
quietly  into  the  sea,  dwelt  a  solitary  fisherman.  He 
was  a  good  friend  to  Willie,  because  he  often  took  him 
out  in  his  boat ;  and  he  taught  him  how  to  row,  and 
told  him  many  a  strange  story  of  the  long-forgotten, 
past,  stories  that  had  never  been  in  print,  but  were 
handed  down  from  sire  to  son. 

It  was  no  wonder  that,  dwelling  in  such  a  country 
as  this,  with  no  other  companions  save  those  two  and 
his  books,  Willie  had  become  a  dreamy  and  imaginatively 
speculative  boy. 

No  other  companions,  I  have  said,  but  must  correct 
myself ;  for  there  was  hardly  a  bird  or  beast  that  lived, 
or  a  shrub  or  flower  that  grew,  that  Willie  did  not  know 
all  about  the  habits  of;  so  he  really  did  not  feel  very 
lonely. 


22  In  the  Dusting  Days  of  Old. 

One  evening  he  had  been  out  fishing  with  Saunders 
the  recluse.  They  had  been  to  an  island  which  lay 
about  three  miles  from  the  mainland,  a  favourite  resort 
of  theirs,  because  among  its  rocks  the  fish  were  never 
shy,  even  mullet  were  abundant,  and  you  had  only  to 
sink  a  creel  for  a  few  hours,  to  be  sure  of  a  splendid 
haul  of  lobsters. 

On  this  particular  evening  they  had  had  particularly 
good  luck.  They  had  caught  more  fish  than  they  really 
wanted,  and  the  blue  pilot  jacket  that  Willie  always  wore 
on  these  occasions  was  as  white  with  the  dried  sliine  off 
the  fish,  as  though  it  had  been  snowed  upon. 

Well,  they  were  late,  and  night  had  fallen  and  the  stars 
had  come  out  while  they  were  still  far  away  at  sea,  their 
wee  boat  rising  and  falling  on  the  smooth  round  waves. 
Suddenly  Willie  cried,  as  he  pointed  shorewards, — 

"  Oh  !  look,  Saunders,  look  !  Look  at  that  bright  star 
shining  right  out  in  the  midst  of  the  mountain.  I  never 
saw  it  before.  What  can  it  be  ?  " 

"  You  may  never  see  it  again,"  said  Saunders,  resting 
on  his  oars  and  looking  towards  the  strange  mountain  star. 

No  planet  in  all  the  blue  vault  of  heaven  shone  with  a 
brighter  effulgence  than  did  that  star  at  this  moment. 
It  was  of  a  greenish  hue,  sometimes  changing  to  light 
yellow  or  blue,  and  anon  to  crimson.  Willie  gazed 
entranced,  and  a  feeling  akin  to  awe  came  over  him  as 
the  fisherman  went  on  with  his  story. 

"You'll  know,"  he  said,  "the  old  castle  ruin  of 
Carrickareen  ?  " 


In  a  Lonesome  Place.  23 

"  The  old  castle  where  the  wild  cats  scream  so  awfully 
on  moonlight  nights  ?  "  said  Willie.  ' '  Yes,  yes,  I  know  it 
well." 

"  Trees  have  grown  up  now  in  the  very  centre  of  it," 
continued  Saunders,  "there  is  broom  and  moss  growing 
on  its  crumbling  walls,  but  hundreds  of  years  ago  the 
castle  of  Carrickareen  was  in  its  glory.  The  McDonalds 
had  held  it  for  centuries.  All  up  and  down  the  glen,  and 
iii  the  adjoining  glens  around  the  country,  the  houses  or 
huts  were  as  thick  as  the  nests  that  hang  in  the  rookery 
in  the  woods  yonder.  They  held  their  rights  by  the  sword, 
did  the  McDonalds,  and  many  a  bloody  Gght  they  used 
to  have  with  the  McLeods  of  Stroma,  their  bitterest  foes. 
A  McDonald  never  met  a  McLeod  in  those  days  without 
drawing  dirk  or  sword,  and  fighting  to  the  grim  end.  Ifc 
was  a  McDonald  and  a  McLeod  that  met  together  on  the 
plank  bridge  across  the  roaring  waterfall  of  Upper 
Foyers.  The  bridge  was  composed  of  only  two  tree 
trunks  thrown  rudely  across,  and  far  down  beneath  were 
the  roaring  rapids  and  the  cataract.  It  was  a  bridge  on 
which  the  bravest  men  might  have  turned  giddy  and 
fallen.  There  was  not  room  on  it  for  even  two  children 
to  pass;  and  yet  on  this  dreadful  bridge  a  McDonald 
and  a  McLeod,  both  in  their  war-dress,  with  claymore, 
skean-dhu,  dirk,  and  shield,  with  bonnet  plumes  and 
belted  plaids,  met. 

"  Neither  would  return.  They  fought.  The  very  wild 
birds  fled  screaming  farther  into  the  woods,  at  sight 
of  men  fighting  in  such  a  position.  The  McDonald  fell 


24  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

stabbed  to  the  heart,  but  not  before  in  his  dying  agony 
he  clutched  McLeod,  and  both  went  headlong  to  death. 

"  As  long,"  continued  the  fisherman  recluse,  "  as  the 
McLeods  fought  unaided  against  the  McDonalds  of 
Carrickareen,  they  seldom  gained  an  advantage.  But 
there  were  wise  old  grey -beards  in  the  clan,  and  these 
laid  a  plot — which,  alas  !  was  only  too  successful — to 
exterminate  the  McDonalds.  They  formed  an  alliance 
with  a  wandering  tribe,  the  gipsies  of  the  ancient  High- 
lands, and  in  their  thousands  the  two  together  invaded 
the  glens  where  dwelt  the  McDonalds. 

"In  the  castle  was  wealth  untold,  the  accumulated 
riches  of  centuries.  Forewarned  some  hours  before  the 
attack,  of  the  great  danger  to  his  castle  and  clan  from 
the  hosts  that  were  marching  against  him,  the  chieftain 
sent  ten  of  his  trustiest  uien  to  yonder  mountain,  to  hide 
the  gold  in  a  cave  known  only  to  them. 

(t  Before  morning  light  there  was  not  a  McDonald  left 
alive  in  the  glen,  nor  a  beast  of  kine,  nor  even  a  dog, 
that  had  belonged  to  the  unhappy  clan,  and  the  castle 
itself  was  a  smouldering  ruin. 

"  It  has  been  a  ruin  ever  since,  the  home  of  the  wild 
cat,  the  weasel,  and  foumart;  but  up  in  a  cave  they  say  the 
gold  still  lies  hidden,  and  will  lie  there  till  the  crack 
of  doom.  For  they  tell  me  it  is  watched  over  by  an  ogre 
or  demon  with  one  eye.  It  is  that  evil  eye  you  see  shin- 
ing down  on  us  now. 

"  Do  you  believe  all  this  ?  "  said  Willie.  "  How  my 
father  would  laugh  at  so  silly  a  story  !  " 


In  a  Lonesome  Place.  25 

"  No,"  said  the  fisherman ;  "  I  do  not  believe  all  of  it. 
The  story  of  the  murder  of  the  McDonalds  is  true,  the 
hiding  of  the  gold  is  probably  true  also,  the  watching 
demon  is  only  believed  in  by  the  very  superstitious." 

"And  the  star?" 

"  The  star,"  said  Willie's  friend,  "  is  believed  by  some 
to  be  a  real  diamond.  It  is  only  on  clear,  starlit  nights 
like  this  that  it  can  be  seen." 

"  And  no  one  has  ever  tried  to  find  it  ?  " 

"Many  have,  and  failed,  and  others  have  been  fright- 
ened. Perhaps,  Willie,  it  is  nothing  but  a  bit  of  glass 
after  all,  or  a  small  crystal  of  quartz." 

Willie  Grant  was  very  young  in  years,  but  he  was  wise 
nevertheless.  He  glanced  rapidly  towards  the  mainland. 
The  peak  of  Dtmgrat  was  barely  visible  above  the  top 
of  the  hill  where  the  strange  star  shone.  He  looked 
behind  him.  The  beacon  on  Trooma  rock  was  in  a 
line  with  the  distant  lighthouse.  These  facts  Willie 
stored  up  in  his  memory. 


CHAPTER  II. 

IN    WOODS    AND    WILDS. 

WILDLY  here,  without  control, 

Nature  reigns  and  rules  the  whole  ; 

In  that  sober,  pensive  mood 
Dearest  to  the  feeling  soul, 

She  plants  the  forest,  pours  the  flood." 

—Sums. 

N  his  first  appearance  at  Miss  McBride's 
cottage,  young  Rutherford  had  received 
as  cordial  a  welcome  from  Willie  Grant  as 
one  boy  could  expect  from  another. 
Willie  had  been  in  his  room  when  the  carrier's  hooded 
cart  stopped  at  the  cottage  door,  and  he  watched  till 
the  new  arrival  alighted,  or  rather  till  he  was  helped 
down.  For  it  was  an  evening  in  winter  :  snow  was 
lying  on  the  ground,  and  the  wind  came  sweeping  down 
from  the  hills  from  a  dozen  different  points  at  once; 
so  at  least  one  would  have  thought.  It  moaned  and 
howled  round  the  chimneys,  and  whistled  through  every 
chink  and  cranny  that  it  could  find  in  door  or  window. 
It  blew  the  snow  into  all  sorts  of  fantastic  wreaths 
and  hillocks,  some  of  which  were  higher  than  the  horse's 


Tn  Woods  and  Wilds.  27 

chest,  so  that  the  wonder  was  that  the  carrier  ever 
arrived  at  all. 

Willie  had  taken  a  good  look  at  the  boy,  and  made 
up  his  rnind  at  once  not  to  like  him. 

"  He's  only  an  Anglo-Indian,  and  I'm  a  Scot,"  he  said 
to  himself.  "  Well,  and  for  that  very  reason  I  must  go 
and  bid  him  welcome,  though  I'd  much  rather  sit  by 
the  fire  here  and  read  '  Arabian  Nights.'  " 

So  Willie  had  marched  bravely  down  and  shaken 
young  Rutherford  by  the  hand.  It  was  a  hearty  shake 
enough;  only  when  giving  it,  Willie  stood  as  far  away 
from  the  Anglo-Indian  boy  as  possible. 

Large,  dark,  wondering  eyes  had  the  latter,  but  with 
nothing  timid  in  them,  and  a  pale,  shapely  and  refined- 
looking  face. 

He  gave  Willie  his  hand  to  shake,  but  he  didn't  shake 
Willie's. 

He  seemed  somewhat  astonished  at  Willie's  sturdy 
and  robust  appearance,  so  entirely  different  from  his 
own. 

Willie  felt  a  kind  of  pity  for  him.  He  couldn't  help 
retaining  his  hand  for  a  moment  while  he  said, — 

"  Are  you  very  cold  ?  How  funny  your  fingers  feel ! 
Do  you  know,  it  is  just  like  shaking  hands  with  a  dead 
duck." 

The  other  looked  and  smiled,  then  they  both  laughed. 
"  OS  with  you  !  "  cried  Miss  McBride,  "  and  get  ready 
for  dinner.  I  see  you'll  be  good  friends." 

When  they  were  both  ready,  and  waiting  till  old  Tibbie 


28  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

should  call  them,  Willie  asked  his  new  companion  a 
question,  one  that  had  been  uppermost  in  his  mind  since 
the  carrier's  arrival. 

"Can  you  fight?"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  with  knives/'  was  the  reply. 

"Oh!  but  you  must  learn  to  fight  with  fists,  they 
wouldn't  allow  knives.  I  have  gloves,  I'll  teach  you  ;  for 
ours  is  a  fighting  school,  and  I  dare  say  we'll  have  to 
haug  together  for  a  bit." 

"Thank  you,  much,"  said  the  Anglo-Indian. 

The  dinner  and  the  warmth  made  the  new-comer  as 
happy  as  could  be  wished,  although  he  shuddered  slightly 
whenever  he  looked  towards  the  snowed- up  windows, 
or  when,  in  a  pause  of  the  conversation,  he  heard  the 
wind  howling  like  starving  wolves  around  the  house. 

The  boys  were  friends  before  bedtime.  Their  cots 
were  placed  in  the  same  room,  and  not  far  apart.  There 
was  a  splendid  fire  on  the  great  old-fashioned  hearth, 
and  oceans  of  wood  with  which  to  replenish  it  whenever 
it  burned  low. 

It  was  two  if  not  three  o'clock  before  they  thought  of 
sleeping,  for  Willie's  conversation  was  intensely  interest- 
ing to  the  Anglo-Indian ;  and  the  tales  the  latter  had 
to  tell  of  the  strange  land  in  which  he  had  spent  his 
young  life,  Willie  felt  he  could  have  listened  to  for  ever 
and  a  day. 

I  think  about  the  last  words  that  Willie  spoke  that 
night  were  these, — 

"  Don't  you  trouble  thinking  about  anything  that  may 


In  Woods  and  Wilds.  29 

happen  to  you  at  school.  The  boys  will  certainly  bother 
you  at  first ;  but  I'll  be  there.  I  know  where  to  hit  them 
to  make  the  blood  spring.  Good-night." 

James  Eutherford  was  the  Anglo-Indian's  name ;  be- 
fore a  week  was  over  James  became  Jem,  and  before  a 
fortnight  Jem  became  Dem,  and  so  remained. 

The  boys  had  bothered  Dem  considerably  when  he 
first  appeared  at  school. 

Boys  of  his  own  height  challenged  him  to  fight  first, 
then  smaller  boys,  and  smaller  still. 

Willie  cuffed  the  tiny  ones,  and  knocked  the  bigger 
down.  But  the  biggest  were  more  than  his  match;  at 
least  he  thought  so,  although  he  himself  was  strong  for 
his  age,  his  muscles  were  like  steel  and  his  fists  of  iron, 
and  he  had  all  the  agility  of  a  wild  cat. 

Willie  tried  to  explain — he  spoke  in  the  Gaelic,  so  that 
Dem  could  not  understand — that  his  friend  was  unused 
to  fight,  and  ailing  and  sickly  ;  and  that  he  himself  would 
have  to  do  all  the  fighting,  if  there  must  be  fighting,  till 
Dem  grew  strong. 

The  boys  only  laughed  at  this.  They  put  Dem  down 
in  their  own  minds  as  a  coward,  only  they  were  good- 
natured  enough,  and  determined  to  take  but  little  notice 
of  him.  But  when  Dem  turned  story-teller  to  a  select 
assortment  of  the  oldest  among  them,  then  he  became 
a  favourite. 

They  used  to  retire  in  conclave  to  an  old  churchyard 
to  hear  and  to  talk. 

The  teacher  was  one  of  the  old  school,  still  common 


30  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

enough  in  some  parts  of  Scotland.  His  word  was  law, 
his  word  must  be  law.  He  was  a  pedagogue  in  every 
sense  of  the  term,  and  a  most  strict  disciplinarian.  The 
tawse — that  leathern  instrument  of  torture — was  never 
out  of  his  hand,  unless  it  were  doubled  up  and  reposing, 
like  a  sleeping  snake,  on  a  handy  corner  of  the  desk. 
If  one  boy  complained  of  another,  that  other  boy  had  a 
very  short  trial  indeed,  and  a  short  shrift.  A  drum- 
head court-martial  was  nothing  to  it,  and  execution  fol- 
lowed sentence  with  a  celerity  that  was  truly  wonderful. 

One  day  our  Anglo-Indian  boy  was  telling  some  story 
or  another  in  the  churchyard,  when  a  lad,  one  of  the 
listeners,  gave  him  the  lie  direct.  Every  one  started  up, 
expecting  a  fight;  but  Dem  sat  sullen  and  silent. 

"Leave  him  alone,"  cried  the  boy  who  had  given  him 
the  insult,  "he's  only  a  foreigner.  He  looks  too  cold 
to  fight." 

"  He  could  warm  you  if  he  tried,"  said  Willie,  quietly. 

"  No,  nor  you,"  was  the  defiant  answer. 

Willie  struck  out  at  once,  and  the  lad  fell  with  bleed- 
ing teeth  and  nose. 

As  fast  as  he  could  stand  up,  Willie  could  knock  him 
down  ;  but  Willie  was  presently  tripped  up  from  behind. 
About  two  minutes  after,  when  the  schoolmaster,  suspect- 
ing something  was  wrong,  raised  himself  by  his  hands 
and  peered  over  the  churchyard  wall,  much  to  his  horror 
he  witnessed  the  following  tableau  : — 

One  boy  lying  doubled  up  over  a  grave,  his  companions 
shrinking  back  affrighted  beside  a  tree;  Willie  Grant 


In  Woods  and  Wilds.  31 

prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  his  friend  Dem  standing  at 
bay  over  him,  his  long  dark  hair  floating  on  the  wind, 
his  eyes  as  wild  and  wide  as  a  panther's,  and  an  upraised 
dagger  gleaming  in  his  hand.  Had  the  pedagogue  not 
sprang  over  the  wall  at  that  moment,  that  dagger  miyld 
have  tasted  blood.  Who  knows  ? 

Dem  said  in  school  that  he  had  merely  drawn  the 
knife  to  frighten  the  coward  who  had  struck  his  friend 
such  fonl  blows,  but  his  punishment  was  none  the  less 
severe. 

From  that  day,  however,  no  boy  ever  dared  to  give 
Dem  the  lie.  Willie  and  he  became  faster  friends  than 
ever,  and  they  were  known  at  school  by  the  name  of 
11  The  Inseparables." 


We  now  go  back — or  is  it  forward  ? — to  the  time  when 
they  were  introduced  to  the  reader.  We  left  them  sitting 
on  two  stones  in  the  middle  of  the  moor.  Dem  looked  at 
his  companion  amusedly  for  a  moment,  then  laughed. 

"  It  was  foolish  of  you,  Willie,"  he  said,  "  to  wet  your 
feet  simply  because  mine  were  wet." 

"Wouldn't  you  do  the  same  for  me,  Dem?"  asked 
Willie  innocently. 

"  I  would  do  anything  for  you,  Willie,  that  there  was 
any  sense  in." 

"  Ah  !  but  look,  you  see,"  said  Willie,  "  there  is  sense 
in  this;  because  if  you  catch  cold  with  having  your  feet 
wet,  so  will  I,  and  we  won't  be  separated." 


32  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

There  was  a  pause  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  conversa- 
tion, then  Dem  spoke  again, — 

"  You  have  been  exceedingly  good  and  kind  to  me, 
Willie;  you  have  taught  me  ever  so  many  things  all 
about  this  wild  and  beautiful  country  of  yours.  I  have 
not  been  here  quite  six  months,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  could 
stay  for  ever — never  to  leave  it." 

"  Don't  talk  about  leaving,"  said  Willie ;  "  I  should  cry 
my  eyes  out.  No,  though,  I  wouldn't  cry  at  all,  I  would 
go  with  you  all  over  the  world.  Wherever  you  went,  I 
would  be  with  you.  Wouldn't  it  be  nice  to  be  always 
together  ?  " 

"  It  would/'  said  Dem. 

"  But  I  know  what  would  be  even  nicer,"  continued 
Willie.  "  It  would  be  nicer  if  there  were  nobody  at  all 
in  the  world  but  just  our  two  selves.  Oh  !  wouldn't  we 
have  fine  times  of  it  ?  Eh  ?  We  could  go  where  we 
liked  and  do  what  we  liked,  and  have  whatever  we  had  a 
mind  to." 

"  Yes,  Willie,  it  would  be  nice.  But  mind,  I  am  two 
years  older  than  you  ;  that  is  a  great  deal,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  true,  Dem,  it  is." 

"Well,  and  I  shouldn't  let  you  speak  like  this.  We 
have  fathers,  haven't  we  ?  " 

«  Ye— es,"  assented  Willie. 

"  Well,  if  there  was  nobody  in  the  world  but  you  and 
I,  where  would  our  dear  fathers  be  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Willie,  as  if  he  could  easily  see  his  way 
out  of  that  difficulty,  "  they  would  be  always  abroad,  you 


In  Woods  and  Wilds.  33 

know,  as  they  arc  now ;  only  they  might  come  home  just 
now  and  then  to  see  us.  Halloa !  look,  did  you  see 
that  bird  ?  It's  a  rose-lintie.  On  with  your  shoes.  I 
know  the  very  whin-bush  it  came  out  of." 

Perhaps  he  did  know  the  very  bush,  but  it  took  both 
of  them  fully  half  an  hour  to  fiiid  that  rose-linnet's  nest 
after  all.  It  was  hidden  in  such  a  cosy  nook  of  the 
yellow-blossomed  whin-bush.  There  were  four  eggs  in 
it,  sweetly  streaked  with  carmine  and  brown. 

They  marked  the  spot  by  counting  the  number  of 
steps  between  the  bush  where  the  nest  was  and  another 
one.  Then  they  set  off  to  look  for  more  nests ;  in  fact, 
it  was  quite  evident  they  meant  to  make  a  day  of  it,  bird- 
nesting — a  day  in  the  wilds.  No  other  schoolboys  came 
in  that  direction,  or  crossed  the  moor  at  all,  so  they  had 
it  pretty  much  their  own  way. 

In  less  that  an  hour  they  had  found  a  tit-lark's 
nest,  a  heather-linnet's,  a  peewit's,  and  better  than  all, 
a  water-hen's  nest.  They  marked  the  position  of  them 
all,  so  that  they  might  know  the  places  again,  for 
they  were  studying  natural  history;  at  all  events  they 
made  themselves  believe  they  were.  Then  they  left 
the  moor  and  made  their  way  to  the  forest,  or  pine- 
wood,  that  grew  in  the  glen  between  them  and  the 
school-house. 

They  stalked  through  .  this  forest  as  silently  and 
cautiously  as  if  they  had  been  a  couple  of  red-skin 
Indians;  for  other  boys,  when  playing  truant,  often 
came  here  to  look  for  nests. 


34  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


The  forest  was  very  still  and  silent,  and  even  dark. 
The  shafts  of  the  great  trees  looked  like  the  pillars  that 
supported  the  roof  of  some  mighty  cavern.  There  was 
not  a  single  bit  of  undergrowth  of  any  kind,  and  the 
ground  was  all  brown  and  bedded  with  the  pine  needles 
that  had  fallen  from  above  the  year  before. 

The  only  sound  that  broke  the  stillness  was  the  mourn- 
ful croodliog  of  the  cushat,  far  down  in  the  darkest  corner 
of  the  spruce  thicket.  But  sometimes  they  heard  a  twig 
snap ;  then  they  hid  at  once  behind  tree-trunks,  for  they 
did  not  know  who  might  be  coming.  Indeed,  they  were 
not  at  all  certain  that  the  schoolmaster  might  not  send 
out  a  party  of  the  bigger  boys,  to  scour  the  wood  in 
search  of  them. 

Presently  they  came  to  a  large,  very  large,  spruce 
tree.  The  broad  green  branches  were  so  thick  and 
close  that  they  could  not  see  any  distance  up.  As 
the  tree  was  situated  among  larches  and  pines,  and 
quite  away  from  any  other  spruce,  they  hardly  expected 
a  nest  of  any  consequence,  only  they  kicked  the  trunk 
of  it  to  cause  any  bird  that  might  happen  to  be  there 
to  fly  out. 

Flap — flap — flap — flap — went  the  wings  of  a  great 
grey-blue  cushat,  and  off  flew  the  bird  with  that  rushing 
sound  that  boys  in  the  country  know  so  well. 

"  A.  cusliie  !  "  cried  Willie.    "  Up  I  go." 

"  Hist !  "  cried  Dem,  with  a  finger  on  his  lips. 

They  both  listened.  Yes,  sure  enough,  there  was  the 
sound  of  voices,  and  it  came  nearer  every  moment. 


In  Woods  and  Wilds.  35 

"  Up  !  up  !  "  whispered  Willie ;  "  bufc  shoes  off  first,  so 
we  shan't  mark  the  tree." 

You  see  Willie  was  a  far  better  savage  than  Dem.  In 
a  few  seconds  they  had  divested  themselves  of  their 
shoes,  tied  them  together  by  the  laces,  hung  them  round 
their  necks,  and  mounted  high  up  out  of  sight  of  any 
one  below. 

It  was  well  they  did  so.  Hardly  were  they  seated 
among  the  higher  branches  ere  they  heard  the  voices  at 
the  very  tree  foot. 

"  No  nest  up  there,"  said  one.  "  Shoo  !  "  he  cried, 
kicking  the  tree  till  it  quivered  all  over. 

"  No,  never  a  nest,"  said  the  other ;  "  nor  the  tree 
hasn't  ever  been  climbed.  Look,  there  isn't  a  mark  on 
the  branches." 

They  were  two  of  the  worst  boys  in  the  school,  boys 
who  played  truant  once  at  least  in  every  week  of  their 
lives.  They  sat  down  beneath  the  tree  and  laid  their 
plans.  They  meant  to  do  the  forest  first,  then  go  to  the 
hills  and  fields. 

So  Willie  and  Dem  thought  they  had  best  stop  up 
where  they  were  for  an  hour  or  two,  till  the  other  lads 
took  their  departure  quite  away  out  of  the  forest. 

While  sitting  aloft  up  there,  Willie  tried  to  amuse  his 
companion  by  telling  him  many  of  his  bird-nesting  and 
fishing  adventures.  Then  all  at  once  it  suddenly  occurred 
to  him  to  tell  Dem  about  the  mountain  star  of  Car- 
rickareen.  So  he  told  him  all  the  story  of  the  supposed 
diamond,  and  the  buried  treasure,  precisely  as  the  fisher- 


36  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

man  had  related  it  to  him.  Dem  was  more  than  in- 
terested ;  he  was  spell-bound. 

"  Oh !  "  he  said,  at  last,  "  if  this  be  only  true,  and  if 
we  can  only  find  the  diamond  !  I  know  well  what 
diamonds  are,  and  it  must  be  a  large  one  to  burn  and 
shine  like  that.  It  must  be  worth  tons  and  tons  of  gold. 
Willie,  we  must  find  it ;  then  we  shall  be  so  rich,  we  can 
do  anything  in  the  wide  world  we  wish  to.  Oh !  we 
shall  find  it — we  must  and  shall  find  it !  " 

Willie  was  astonished  to  see  his  companion  so  excited, 
but  he  himself  was  not  so  sanguine.  He  sat  silently 
thinking  after  that,  so  did  Dem ;  and  presently  back 
came  the  wild  pigeon  and  her  mate,  and  had  a  look  at 
the  nest  of  sticks  and  the  two  white  eggs. 

"  Troubled-with-you  !  troubled-with-you  !  "  they  both 
seemed  to  say.  Then  Willie  coughed,  and  away  flew  the 
birds  again  with  more  noise  than  ever. 

"  The  boys  must  be  gone,"  said  Willie,  "  or  the  birds 
wouldn't  have  come  back.  Let  us  go  down." 

There  was  a  stream  ran  down  through  the  wood,  in 
which  was  many  a  round-nosed,  dark,  crimson-spotted 
trout.  Willie  knew  every  pool  in  it,  and  where  the  best 
fish  were,  and  the  pools  where  only  eels  lay,  and  the 
places  where  great  frogs  hid,  and  the  banks  under  which 
voles  or  water-rats  lived,  and  under  which  it  would  be 
dangerous  to  put  your  arm,  for  fear  of  getting  a  nasty 
bite. 

Willie  proposed  spending  the  rest  of  the  day  "  guddl- 
ing ; "  that  is,  damming  the  stream  with  turfs,  stripping 


in  Woods  and  Wilds.  37 

off  jacket  and  vest,  rolling  up  sleeves  and  trousers,  and 
catching  fish  with  the  hand.  Oh !  guddling  is  rare  good 
sport,  and  many  a  pleasant,  happy  hour  Willie  and  Dem 
spent  at  it. 

"  But  not  to-day,"  said  Dem ;  "  no,  not  to-day,  Willie. 
I  have  that  diamond  on  the  brain  ;  let  us  go  towards  the 
mountain.  At  all  events  we  may  find  the  cave  and  the 
buried  treasure." 

The  boys  betook  themselves  to  the  hill  where  was  the 
mysterious  cave.  It  was  wooded  at  the  foot,  but  the  trees 
soon  gave  place,  as  they  ascended,  to  heather  and  stunted 
birches  and  myrtle,  with  here  and  there  a  small,  weird- 
looking  pine-tree,  clinging,  as  if  in  a  death-struggle,  to 
the  rocks.  Then  came  bare,  and  in  many  places,  inacces- 
sible rocks,  among  which  they  toiled  and  struggled  for 
hours,  to  the  no  small  danger  of  their  necks  ;  but  perhaps 
still  more  to  the  danger  of  any  human  being  or  creature 
that  might  be  below  them,  for  boulders  often  became 
detached  by  the  slightest  touch,  and  went  hurtling  down 
the  mountain's  side,  dividing  into  a  hundred  pieces  ere 
they  reached  the  wood. 

But  no  cave  or  sign  of  a  cave  could  they  find,  and 
tired,  hot,  and  jaded,  they  returned  about  sunset  to  their 
cottage  home. 

Old  Tibbie,  the  servant,  met  them  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in,  quick,"  she  said  ;  "  there's  a  letter  for  one 
of  ye.  And  Miss  McBride  has  had  a  letter  from  the 
schoolmaster.  Bad  news  in  that,  Fll  warrant." 

"Bad  news  indeed!"  thought  the  boys. 


38  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Dem  shook  his  head  to  Willie,  and  Willie  shook  his 
head  back  to  Dem,  and  together  in  silence  and  sadness 
they  followed  Tibbie  into  the  parlour. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ARRIVAL   OF   A   STRANGE    STRANGER. 

"  THAT  very  morn 
From  a  far  land  I  crime, 
Yet  round  me  clung 
The  spirit  of  my  own." 

— Mrs.  Hemam. 

ISS  McBRIDE  received  the  boys  in  the 
parlour.  She  seemed  full  of  importance 
— swelling  with  it. 

"  We  have  had  no  less  than  two  letters 
to-day,"  she  said.  "  One,  Master  James,  is  from  your 
father  in  India — to  me,  and  he  incloses  one  to  you, 
which  being  open,  as  it  ought  properly  to  be,  I  took  the 
liberty  of  reading.  The  other  letter,  boys,  concerns  you 
both.  It  is  from  your  teacher,  and  you  will  be  sorry 
to  hear  the  contents  of  it." 

Dem  and  Willie  clasped  hands  beneath  the  tab^e  and 
waited  in  breathless  suspense. 

"  The  purport  of  your  schoolmaster's  letter,"  continued 
Miss  McBride,  "is  to  convey  to  us  the  disagreeable,  not 


40  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

to  say  alarming,  intelligence  that  two  of  the  pupils  are 
down  with  fever;  that  the  complaint  is  spreading  in  the 
district,  and  that  therefore  the  school  will  be  closed,  and 
not  re-opened  until  after  the  harvest  holidays." 
Both  boys  gave  a  heartfelt  sigh  of  relief. 
"  I  feel  sure  you  are  very  sorry,  my  dear  boys." 
Miss  McBride  was  not  looking  in  their  direction  as 
she  spoke,  else  she  could  hardly  have  helped  noticing 
that  the  expression  on  their  faces  was  quite  the  reverse 
of  that  of  grief. 

"  There,  Master  Rutherford,  is  the  letter  from  your  dear 
papa,  only  one  portion  of  which  is  not  quite  clear  to  me. 
He  says  in  the  postscript,  '  I  enclose  a  letter  from  my 
dear  friend,  Captain  Grant,  to  his  son,  which  will  no 
doubt  be  thankfully  received.'  That  is  what  he  says, 
but  no  letter  came  enclosed." 

"Fll  come  back  in  a  moment,"  cried  Dem,  almost 
snatching  the  letter  from  the  hands  of  Miss  McBride  in 
his  joyous  eagerness.  "  I'll  merely  glance  at  the  letter 
all  by  myself  first,  then  come  back  and  read  it  to  you, 
Willie." 

"  Good  boy  !  "  said  Miss  McBride. 
As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Miss  McBride  turned  round 
to  Willie  and  addressed  him, — 

"  We  are  about  to  receive  the  visit  of  a  stranger,"  she 
said,  with  a  very  grave  countenance,  "  a  stranger,  Willie, 
and  what  is  more,  a  very  strange  stranger." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Willie,  not  knowing  what  else  to  say, 


Arrival  of  a  Strange  Stranger.  41 

for  Miss  McBride  sat  for  fully  a  minute  gazing  out  at 
the  window,  but  evidently  seeing  nothing,  for  her  eyes 
had  a  far-away  look  in  them,  as  if  she  were  deep  in 
thought. 

"  A  very  strange  stranger  !  "  she  kept  muttering. 
Then  she  turned  slowly  round  to  Willie  again. 
"  I  lie  under  a  very  deep  obligation  to  your  dear  father, 
Willie, "  she  said,  "  an  obligation  I  shall  never  be  able  to 
repay,  and  of  which  some  day  or  other  we  may  talk.     If 
it  were  not  so,  I  would  not  receive  this  stranger." 

"But  who  is  he?"  Willie  asked  anxiously;  and  he 
added,  "I'm  sure,  Miss  McBride,  my  father  would  not 
like  to  do  anything  to  annoy  you/' 

"  Dear  boy,  I  know  that,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  it  is  so 
thoughtful  of  you  to  speak  thus;  so  young  too.  No, 
your  father  would  do  nothing  to  annoy  me,  nor,.  Willie, 
must  he  ever  be  told  that  the  thoughts  of  the  coming  of 
this  strange  creature  or  man  did  annoy  me.  I  have  not 
an  antipathy  exactly — Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  have 
an  antipathy  to  anything  that  God  made,  far  less  to  any 
creature — but  I  have  a  strange  fear  of  foreigners,  almost 
amounting  to  a  horror." 

"  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  !  "  cried  Dem  rushing  into 
the  room  and  waving  the  letter  wildly  aloft.  "  My  dear 
Miss  McBride  !  O  Willie,  what  glorious  news  !  Poodah 
is  coming  !  Poodah  will  be  here  in  a  few  days  !  Shake 
hands,  Willie.  I  shall  be  happy  now." 
«  But  who  is  Poodah  ?  "  said  Willie. 


42  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  Is  it  the  strange  stranger  ?  "  said  Miss  McBride. 

Willie  was  sitting  at  one  side  of  the  hearth  and  Miss 
McBride  was  at  the  other,  and  Dem,  who  had  a  good 
many  Oriental  ways  about  him,  squatted  down  on  the 
rug,  Turk-fashion,  between  them,  and  turned  his  beaming 
face  first  towards  the  one  and  then  towards  the  other. 

"Poodah  is,"  he  said,  "why,  Poodah  is— Poodah, 
don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  That  is  hardly  definite  enough,"  said  Miss  McBride 
smiling. 

"  Well,  no,  of  course  not,  of  course  it  isn't.  But  what 
I  wanted  to  say  was  that  Poodah  is  everybody ;  that  is, 
he  has  been  everything  and  everybody  to  me,  nurse  and 
guide  and  tutor  and  all.  And,  0  Willie,  he  has  been 
everywhere  and  done  everything,  and  such  stories  he 
can  tell.  He  can  keep  you  spell-bound  for  hours 
together.  Poodah,  Miss  McBride,  is  the  best  swordsman 
that  ever  waved  a  sword." 

"  Oh  !  dear  me !  "  exclaimed  Miss  McBride,  "  I  do  hope 
the  foreigner  won't  wave  any  swords  while  he  is  here." 

"  Oh,  no  ! "  from  Dem,  "  that  I'm  sure  he  won't,  Miss 
McBride.  I  was  only  going  to  say  that  though  he  is  such 
a  very,  very  clever  swordsman — he  could  cut  a  horse's 
head  off,  Willie,  with  one  blow — he  is  also  such  an 
excellent  cook." 

"  That  is  better,"  said  Miss  McBride  with  a  sigh  of 
relief. 

"Yes,"  continued  Dem,  "the  soups  and  omelettes  and 


Arrival  of  a  Strange  Stranger.  43 

curries  and  coffee  he  makes,  would  make  you  get  up  and 
eat  and  drink,  even  if  you  were  dying.  And  here  is 
papa's  letter.  It  is  such  a  long,  delicious  letter.  But  you 
won't  care  to  hear  much  of  it ;  only  he  says  in  one  part : 
'Your  friend  and  favourite,  Poodah,  has  never  ceased 
to  speak  about  you  since  your  departure.  He  told  me 
at  last  he  should  die  if  he  could  not  come  to  you.  But 
I  found  out  that  at  the  very  time  he  made  this  remark 
to  me  he  was  packing  up  his  few  traps  to  go  to  you, 
whether  I  gave  him  leave  or  not.  So  you  see  I  had  to 
make  a  virtue  of  necessity.  There  always  was  some 
mystery  about  Poodah  ! '  " 

Here  Miss  McBride  sighed  slightly,  and  muttered 
something  that  sounded  like  "a  man  with  a  mystery 
about  him,  of  all  things  !  " 

"  Dear  me  !  dear  me  !  "  continued  Miss  McBride  aloud, 
but  wringing  her  hands  in  a  kind  of  a  nervous,  distracted 
sort  of  way.  "  I'm  sure  I  hope  it  will  be  all  for  the  best, 
boys,  and  that  it  will  all  end  aright.  But  I  don't  know, 

and  I  can't  tell.  And  this  creat I  mean,  this  man 

with  the  mystery,  may  come  any  day  or  hour.  I  must  go 
at  once  and  see  about  the  spare  bedroom." 

"Mind,  Miss  McBride,"  said  Dem,  "no  feather-bed 
for  Poodah ;  no  bed  at  all,  only  a  rug  on  the  floor,  and 
one  pillow." 

"  No  bed  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  lady.  "  No  bed  !  Oh, 
the  heathen  ! " 

Miss  McBride  had  hardly  finished  speaking,  and  was 


44  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

just  turning  to  leave  the  room,  when  in  rushed  the  big 
tabby  cat  with  his  tail  like  a  bottle-brush,  and  made  a 
wild  plunge  to  get  up  the  chimney.  About  the  same 
moment  a  shriek,  that  seemed  to  well  up  from  the  very 
heart  of  someone  in  dire  distress,  resounded  from  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  kitchen.  It  died  away  in  a  kind  of 
moan  of  terror,  like  what  a  person  in  a  fearful  nightmare 
gives  vent  to.  Almost  immediately  afterwards  hurried 
footsteps  were  heard  in  the  corridor,  and  poor  old  Tibbie, 
with  blanched  face  and  staring  eyes,  ran  into  the  room, 
and  it  took  the  united  strength  of  both  Willie  and  Dem 
to  prevent  her  from  falling  flat  on  the  carpet. 

"  The  spirit !  the  evil  spirit !  "  was  all  she  could  say. 
"  The  spirit !  Look,  look,  there  it  comes  again !  " 

Tibbie  went  off  now  into  a  dead  faint,  and  Miss 
McBride  took  up  the  screaming. 

And  no  wonder !  The  apparition  that  now  stood  in 
the  parlour  doorway  was  quite  frightful  enough  to  scare 
the  senses  out  of  any  two  old  women  who  lived  in  so 
wild  and  lonesome  a  country  as  this. 

He,  the  apparition,  was  tall  and  well  though  not 
stoutly  formed,  arrayed  from  shoulder  to  ankle  in  what 
appeared  to  be  a  long  white  nightdress.  Around  the 
waist  was  a  girdle  of  scarlet  silk,  in  which  jewelled  knife 
and  pistols  were  stuck.  On  the  feet  were  ornamental 
sandals,  on  the  head  a  splendid  gilded  turban.  The 
face  was  of  a  dark  copper  colour,  but  beautifully  formed 
in  every  feature ;  and  from  beneath  the  turban  behind, 


Arrival  of  a  Strange  Stranger.  45 

there  escaped  and  flowed  down,  as  far  as  the  waist,,  heavy 
ringlets  of  grey-white  hair. 

The  apparition  stood  smiling  and  bowing  in  the 
doorway,  and  on  his  shoulder  was  a  small  but  lovely  jet- 
black  Persian  cat.  She,  too,  was  trying  to  appear 
amiable.  She  had  her  back  up  and  her  tail  curled, 
and  was  siuging  aloud  and  rubbing  her  head  against  her 
master's  turban. 

Willie  was  startled,  but  it  was  very  differenj;  with 
Dem.  He  rushed  to  meet  the  apparition. 

"  Poodah ! "  he  cried,  seizing  his  arm  and  fairly 
hugging  it.  "  Poodah  !  my  dear  friend  Poodah  !  Miss 
McBride,  this  is  Poodah  himself,  Poodah  we  were 
talking  about,  Poodah  that  we  were  all  expecting."  , 

Poodah's  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  He  took  his 
young  master's  hand,  bent  reverently  over  it,  and  placed 
it  to  his  brow,  a  very  beautiful  form  of  salutation  common 
in  many  parts  of  the  East  Indies. 

"  Come  in,  Poodah,"  continued  Dem.  "I  daresay  you 
are  cold." 

Poodah  kicked  off  his  sandals  and  advanced. 

Tibbie  recovered  sufficiently  to  make  her  exit,  and 
Miss  McBride  so  far  as  to  tell  Poodah  he  was  welcome. 

Dem  thanked  her  with  his  eyes. 

"  He  is  my  tutor,  you  know,"  he  said. 

It  was  not  long  before  Poodah  settled  down  and  made 
himself  thoroughly  at  home  at  Gowan  Lodge,  as  Miss 
McBride's  cottage  was  named.  He  even  ingratiated 


46  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

himself  into  favour  with  old  Tibbie ;  and  Miss  McBride 
candidly  acknowledged  that  in  every  way  Poodah  was 
a  gentleman,  and  quite  unlike  any  negroes  she  had  ever 
heard  of  or  read  of  before.  Even  Poodah's  black 
Persian  cat  became  a  pet  of  the  household,  and  was 
graciously  permitted  by  the  old  tabby  to  recline  in  front 
of  the  fire,  and  at  times  to  repose  on  the  footstool. 

The  only  thing  that  Miss  McBride  could  not  quite 
forgive  Poodah  for,  was  his  sleeping  on  a  mat  on  the 
floor,  in  what  she  was  pleased  to  term,  a  heathenish  way, 
instead  of  going  to  bed  like  a  Christian. 

If  the  truth  must  be  told,  Dem  was  at  first  very  much 
afraid  that  his  friend  Poodah  would  be  relegated  to  the 
kitchen,  and  that  was  the  reason  why  he  told  Miss 
McBride  so  pointedly,  on  Poodah's  first  arrival,  that  he 
was  a  tutor  to  him. 

Bat  Poodah  knew  well  how  to  behave  at  table,  and 
though  an  East  Indian,  he  did  not  eat  rice  and  curry  with 
his  fingers,  but  was  an  adept  with  the  knife  and  fork. 

He  would  never  touch  meat,  however — nothing,  as  he 
himself  expressed  it,  that  had  ever  had  blood  flowing 
through  it.  His  curries  were  therefore  vegetable  ones, 
but  he  did  not  hesitate  to  cook  curries  of  meat  for  the 
rest  of  the  household,  never  commencing  to  do  so,  how- 
ever, until  he  had  engaged  in  some  mysterious  devotions 
on  a  little  morsel  of  carpet  in  a  remote  corner  of  the 
kitchen. 

Poodah's  own  room  was  in  a  gable  of  the  house  or 


Arrival  of  a  Strange  Stranger.  47 

cottage.  This  gable  abutted  on  to  a  green  lawn  snr- 
rounded  with  hedges,  that  now  in  summer  time  were  all 
a- smother  with  wild  roses  and  honeysuckles.  There  was 
a  large  French  window  looking  on  to  the  lawn,  and  as 
often  as  not  Poodah  used  this  for  a  door. 

The  lawn  itself  was  seldom  cut,  it  was  rank  with  the 
white  blossoming  gowans — the  wee,  modest,  crimson- 
tipped  flowers  of  the  immortal  Burns ;  clover,  white  and 
red,  bloomed  there  too,  and  the  blue  and  yellow  crow-pea, 
and  the  blazing  celandine.  There  were  many  trees  on 
it  as  well,  one  enormous  yew  tree  in  particular.  The 
lawn  ended  in  a  pine-wood,  but  so  quickly  did  this  wood 
slope  downwards  to  the  bottom  of  the  deep  glen  beneath 
that  the  view  of  the  lovely  strath  that  stretched  away  for 
many  miles  westward  was  not  interrupted. 

The  bed  had  been  taken  out  of  Poodah/s  room,  all  the 
furniture  therefore  in  it  consisted  of  the  sofa  or  lounge, 
a  rocking-chair,  and  a  few  other  chairs  and  Poodah/s 
bookshelf,  which  was  a  very  small  one  indeed ;  but  Miss 
McBride  had  done  everything  she  could  to  make  this 
room  look  bright  and  cheerful  by  means  of  a  carpet, 
skin  mats,  curtains,  and  pictures  on  the  walls. 

And  bright  and  cheerful  it  was,  especially  in  the 
summer  evenings,  when  the  casements  were  thrown  wide 
apart,  and  the  glorious  light  of  the  glowing  west  shone 
iu.  Dem  and  Willie  made  themselves  very  much  at 
home  here,  and  many  were  the  strange  wild  stories  they 
listened  to  from  Poodah's  lips. 


48  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Three  whole  weeks  passed  away,  and  during  all  this 
time  neither  Dem  nor  Willie  cnce  thought  about  the 
mountain  cave  and  the  strange  star,  both  of  which  they 
had  previously  made  up  their  minds  to  spend  their  whole 
lives,  if  that  were  necessary,  in  trying  to  find.  For  both 
boys  put  implicit  faith  in  the  story  of  the  hidden 
treasure. 

But  one  evening  they  were  all  three  together  as  usual 
in  Poodah's  room.  It  was  shortly  after  sunset,  and  the 
Indian  had  been  telling  them  story  after  story  of  his 
strange  life  and  wild  adventures  in  many  lands. 

"  The  young  sahib  must  tell  a  little  story  now,"  said 
Poodah  at  last. 

"I  haven't  got  one  to  tell,"  said  Willie.  Then  ho 
corrected  himself  and  said, — 

"  Oh,  yes  !  by  the  bye,  I  have  though." 

So  he  began,  and  told  Poodah  all  the  story  of 
Carriclrareen  Castle,  the  murdered  McDonalds,  and  the 
tale  of  the  buried  gold  and  the  star  sometimes  seen 
on  clear  nights,  and  supposed  to  mark  the  site  of  the 
cavern. 

Willie  was  astonished  at  the  amount  of  interest  he 
seemed  to  have  awakened  in  the  breast  of  Poodah  by  his 
simple  story.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished,  Poodah  jumped 
up,  "  The  night  is  fine,"  he  said ;  "  let  us  get  a  boat  and 
pull  out  to  sea ;  perhaps  we  may  behold  this  strange  star. 
I  would  fain  feast  my  eyes  on  its  beauty." 

"  Saunders,   '  the  hermit  fisherman/   as   people    call 


"  Right   in  his  pathway   stood  a  strange  apparition,  black  in  face, 
white  as  to  raiment,  and  with  arms  erect  in  air." 

[Page  61. 


Arrival  of  a  Strange  Stranger.  49 


him,"  replied  Willie,  "  has  gone  to  the  south.  He  left 
the  very  day  after  your  arrival,  Poodah." 

"  But  the  boat  ?  "  said  Poodah.  "  He  did  not  take  the 
boat." 

"No,"  laughed  Willie;  "but  would  it  be  right  to 
borrow  it  ?  He  would  forgive  me,  though,  I  know," 
continued  Willie  after  a  moment's  consideration,  "  Yes, 
let  us  go  at  once." 

The  fisherman's  little  cottage  looked  very  lonesome 
to-night,  with  no  smoke  curling  up  out  of  the  chimney, 
and  no  light  in  the  window. 

They  found  the  boat  easily  enough,  and  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  launching  it.  Willie  was  surprised  at  Poodali's 
expertness  with  the  oars.  He  made  the  boat  bouud  over 
the  waters.  Willie  himself  took  the  tiller,  and  Dem  did 
nothing  but  sit  and  look  around  him.  He  was  the 
passenger,  he  said,  and  meant  to  enjoy  himself. 

Willie  was  not  much  of  a  sailor,  or  he  might  have 
found  the  place  from  which  alone  the  star  could  be  seen, 
without  the  trouble  of  going  all  the  way  round  to  the 
island. 

He  thought  he  would  make  sure,  however,  so  oars 
were  never  taken  in  until  the  boat  rasped  on  the  beach 
of  the  only  possible  landing-place  iu  all  the  island. 

The  long  twilight  of  these  northern  regions  had  not 
yet  given  place  to  night,  but  stars  were  beginning  to 
appear  in  the  east,  and  more  and  more  came  into  sight 
every  minute,  for  the  sky  was  beautifully  clear.  They 


50  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

wandered  about  the  little  rocky  island  for  quite  an  hour. 
There  was  grass  thereon,  a  few  sheep,  and  a  shepherd's 
hut,  but  no  shepherd.  They  managed  to  scare  the  rabbits; 
after  one  glance  at  the  intruders  these  timid  creatures 
cocked  their  little  white  flags,  and  went  scurrying  away 
to  their  burrows  in  the  stony  soil. 

They  scared  the  wild  birds  too,  the  gulls  and  puffins 
and  majestic  solan  geese.  The  gulls  flew  round  them  in 
flocks,  screaming  in  terror  and  anger,  and  apparently 
making  attempts  to  frighten  them  away  from  the  place. 
They  embarked  at  last,  and  as  soon  as  they  had  gone  a 
little  way,  the  gulls  settled  once  more  on  the  rocks,  the 
coneys  came  peeping  out  of  their  holes,  and  the  island 
resumed  its  wonted  calm. 

Keeping  the  beacon  on  Trooma  as  much  as  possible  in 
a  line  betwixt  the  boat  and  the  distant  lighthouse, 
Willie  steered  straight  for  the  shore  about  a  mile  to  the 
north  of  the  fisherman's  cottage. 

Right  over  the  white  rocky  peak  of  Dungrat,  which  lay 
many  miles  in'and,  shone  a  bright  planet.  By  that 
planet  AVillie  steered.  Now  the  distant  peak  begins  to 
sink  and  sink  behind  the  rugged  mountain  that  overhung 
the  sea-beach,  the  mountain  in  which  was  the  mysterious 
cave. 

"  Pull  easy,"  cried  Willie,  glancing  behind  him  ;  "  we 
are  near  the  spot  now." 

His  heart  was  beating  and  thumping  against  his  side 
with  anxiety.  Would  the  star  be  visible  to-night,  he 


Arrival  of  a  Strange  Stranger.  51 

wondered  ?  Fifty  times,  if  once,  lie  glanced  behind  Inrn3 
to  make  sure  lie  was  steering  ariglit.  Yes,  the  boat  and 
beacon  lighthouse  were  still  in  a  line,  and  yonder  was 
the  peak  of  Dungrat  barely  showing  above  the  hill. 

This  was  the  place.      But  where  was  the  mountain 
star  ?     Gone ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON    INDIAN    SHORES. 

"  KNOW  yc  the  land  of  the  cedar  and  vine, 
Where  the  flowers  ever  blossom,  the  beams  ever  shine, 
Where  the  light  Avings  of  Zephyr,  oppressed  with  perfume, 
Wax  faint  o'er  the  gardens  of  Gul  in  her  bloom, 
Where  the  tints  of  the  earth  and  the  hues  of  the  sky, 
In  colour  though  varied,  in  beauty  may  vie, 
And  the  purple  of  ocean  is  deepest  in  dye  ? 
'Tis  the  clime  of  the  East— the  land  of  the  sun." 


OR  a  brief  space   the  scene   of  our  story 
changes.     We  stand  on  Indian  shores. 

Here  no  purple  heather  clads  the  hill?, 
no  scarlet  poppies  peep  up  through  rising 
corn,  no  dewy-eyed  bluebell  or  modest  primrose  glints 
through  the  grass's  green,  by  covert  or  hedgerow.  But 
a  bluer,  brighter  sky  gleams  over  us,  above  us  burns  a 
fiercer  sun ;  the  groves  of  orange  and  citron  and  plantain 
look  to  us  foreign  j  the  forest  trees  themselves  are 
strange ;  strange  forms  of  insect  life  fill  the  air  with 
musical  hum ;  brilliantly  plumaged  birds  flit,  mostly  in 
silence,  from  bough  to  bough.  Those  birds  we  think  are 
lovely ;  but  why  so  mute  ?  why  do  they  not  awake  the 


On  Indian  Shores.  53 

woodland  echoes,  as  do  our  mavises,  Unties,  and  laverocks 
at  home  in  bonnie  Scotland?  Because  up  in  yonder  dark 
trees  hide  many  a  hideous  hawk  and  bird  of  prey,  and  so 
those  little  bright-winged  birds  must  tell  their  love  in 
whispers — for  even  the  snakes  and  reptiles  that  lurk 
beneath  the  fairest  flowers  would  find  them  out  did  they 
not  woo  in  silence. 

Out  yonder,  towards  the  south,  if  we  cast  our  eyes,  we 
may  look  upon  an  ocean  far  brighter  and  more  pellucid 
in  its  waters  than  any  we  have  ever  dreamt  of,  and  in 
tiny  ripples  its  wavelets  are  breaking  on  a  snowy  beach 
of  coral  sand.  Were  the  brightness  of  the  day  to  tempt 
us  to  bathe,  we  might  swim  or  wade  a  mile  from  land 
without  getting  beyond  our  depth;  and  if  naturalists, 
or  even  lovers  of  nature,  we  might  never  tire  of  being 
lapped  by  the  warm,  soothing  waters  of  that  sunlit  sea ; 
for  down  there  beneath  lie  submarine  gardens  more 
beautiful  far  than  an  Arab's  dream  of  Paradise. 

Describe  them?  Would  that  I  were  able  to.  But 
they  rise  up  before  my  eyes,  even  now  as  I  write;  I  have 
but  to  pause  and  shut  my  eyes,  to  see  them  once  again, 
see  them  with  their  brightness  hardly  dimmed  by  the 
lapse  of  years,  see  them  as  I  used  to  see  them  while 
leaning  over  my  boat  and  gazing  entranced  for  hours. 
Surely  the  English  language  is  singularly  destitute  of 
words  descriptive  of  beauty.  I  at  least  can  find  none 
capable  of  giving  the  reader  an  idea  of  one  half  the  love- 
liness that  waves  on  coral  sands  'neath  Indian  seas. 
<(  Waves"  is  just  the  word^  for  every  branchlet,  every 


In  the  Dashing  Lays  of  Old. 


twig1,  every  stem  and  flower,  are  clothed  with  a  rainbow 
brightness  of  colour,  sparkle  with  light,  and  seem  instinct 
with  a  half  animal  power  of  life  and  motion,  and  even  in 
weather  so  calm  that  there  is  not  so  much  as  a  ripple 
on  the  ocean's  breast,  you  may  see  them  gently  waving 
to  and  fro, 

But  beautiful  though  these  gaily-tinted  coral  algae  be 
let  us  hasten  back  to  the  beach,  nor  be  tempted  to  swim 
in  the  deeper  water;  for  where  the  shore  suddenly 
shelves,  where  we  lose  sight  suddenly  of  our  sea.flowers, 
and  the  waves  get  black  around  us,  we  may  perchance 
catch  glimpses  of  monsters  whose  shapes,  even  should 
we  escape  their  slimy,  deadly  embrace,  would  haunt  us 
in  our  dreams  for  aye, 

Let  us  hasten  back  to  the  shore  then,  and  there  in  somo 
cool  grotto  await  the  day's  decline. 

And  now  comes  the  gentle  breeze,  fans  our  heated 
brows,  and  almost  woos  us  to  sweetest  slumber.  But 
scenes  of  beauty  still  surround  us.  Look  away  over  the 
ocean  yonder  towards  the  distant  horizon,  at  that  solitary 
light  gently  rising  and  falling  on  the  billows.  It  is  a 
vessel  homeward  bound,—  a  little  world  in  itself  afloat 
on  the  deep,  filled  with  its  own  fears,  cheered  by  its  own 
hopes.  Care  and  sorrow,  joy  and  gladness,  all  are  there  — 
a  little  city  on  the  sea.  Let  us  pray  God  speed  her  ;  then 
turn  our  eyes  to  the  east.  Yonder,  from  an  emerald  sky, 
gleams  out  the  evening  star,  the  star  of  love,  the  bright- 
eyed,  happy,  gloaming  star.  Behind  us,  if  we  glance,  we 
shall  be  surprised  to  see  many  other  stars,  less  bright  it  is 


On  Indian  Shores.  55 

true,  but  restless,  moving,  gliding,  flitting,  dancing  round 
every  bush,  and  wheeling  in  fiery  flight  around  the 
feathery  palm  trees.  Need  I  say  they  are  fire-flies  ? 

But  there !  we  have  stayed  long  enough  out  on  the 
beach ;  for  sweet  and  cool  as  is  the  evening,  the  night 
winds  in  these  latitudes  often  bear  clammy  death  upon 
their  wings.  Let  us  walk  inland  then,  for  from  above 
the  distant  forest- covered  mountains  the  moon  is  already 
shedding  her  silvery  beams  over  the  land  and  over  the 
seas. 

Up  the  path  that  leads  through  the  jungle  we  take  our 
way.  The  road  is  broad,  but  brown,  not  green  as  our 
woodland  walks  at  home  are.  There !  we  stop  to  wonder 
what  lies  yonder  right  in  our  path.  It  is  as  large  and 
round  almost  as  an  ordinary  footstool,  dark  and  glisten- 
ing in  the  moon  rays.  We  have  room  to  avoid  it,  and  we 
do  so,  for  its  bite  is  deadly.  It  is  the  common  black 
snake  coiled  up  and  asleep.  By-and-by  it  will  measure 
its  length  on  the  ground,  creep  off  to  find  a  frog,  and 
thence  back  to  its  evil  cave  in  some  black  corner  of  the 
jungle  or  forest. 

Yes,  there  are  sounds  enough  in  the  forest  to  frighten 
any  novice.  The  yelping  bark  of  jackals,  the  sullen  roar- 
ing boom  of  wilder  beasts  than  they. 

Hark !  what  was  that  spirit-like  shriek  ?  Was  it  a 
warning  cry  ?  Nay,  it  is  but  the  voice  of  a  harmless 
bird.  And  many  strange  birds  emit  more  terrible  hair- 
stirring  sounds  by  night  in  the  woods  than  all  the  beasts 
contained  therein.  The  sudden,  ear-splitting  yell  close 


56  In  Hie  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

in  the  bush  beside  us  is  not  the  war  cry  of  Indians,  but 
the  voice  of  a  bird ;  so  is  that  wild,  unearthly  laugh  that 
ever  and  anon  rises  and  swells  on  tho  night  air.  The 
silence  of  a  few  minutes  may  be  suddenly  broken  by 
screams  and  shrieks  from  some  dark  thicket,  as  of  some 
poor  mortal  in  agony — shrieks  loud,  prolonged,  most 
mournful;  the  sounds  come  from  some  birds  holding 
nocturnal  revel. 

But  here  we  are,  out  in  the  open  plain.  We  can  see 
the  mountains  better  now,  and  they  do  not  seem  so  very 
far  off  in  the  glimmer  of  this  joyful  moon.  But  what 
are  those  lights  we  now  see  twinkling  not  far  ahead  ? 

It  is  the  bungalow  of  Colonel  Rutherford,  Dem's 
father. 

We  pass  the  white-frocked  sentry  who  paces  slowly 
up  and  down,  as  silent  as  a  cat,  before  the  gates,  and 
enter. 

In  n  lofty-roofed  room,  whose  many  windows  were 
wide  open  that  the  evening  breeze  might  steal  in  and 
cool  the  atmosphere,  at  a  table  on  which  burned  a  great 
oil  lamp,  sat  two  gentlemen  discussing  dessert,  while 
over  it  waved  a  great  punkah,  set  in  motion  by  a  little 
nigger  boy,  who  crouched  like  a  white- robed  sprite  in  a 
corner  of  the  apartment. 

What  a  luscious  feast  of  fruit  that  was !  What  splendid 
sun-tinted  mangoes,  rich  and  delicious  looking  bananas, 
and  piles  of  fruit  that  a  stranger  from  England  could  not 
even  have  named ;  while  the  very  air  seemed  oppressed 
with  the  perfume  of  the  lordly  pine-apples,  mingling  with 


On  Indian  Shores.  57 

tlio  scent  from  beautiful  flowers  that  filled  and  trailed 
over  a  magnificent  epergne,  chief  among  them  orange 
blossoms.  The  table  itself  was  large,  the  cloth  was 
white  as  mountain  snow,  and  the  glass  shone  like  dia- 
monds, rivalled  only  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  silver  itself. 

Both  gentlemen  were  smoking  great  hookahs,  or 
hubble-bubbles,  that  stood  by  their  sides  on  the  floor. 
It  was  the  colonel  and  his  friend,  Captain  Grant — Willie's 
father — that  sat  here  in  comfortable  tete-a-tete. 

"  Well,  Grant,"  the  colonel  was  saying.  "  I'm  glad  I 
took  your  advice,  and  sent  my  lad  home,  though  I  can 
tell  you  I  miss  him  badly  enough." 

"  So  you  will,  for  a  time." 

"  Yes,  and  I've  half  a  mind  to  go  home  with  you  next 
time  you  go." 

"  Six  mouths  hence  ? " 

"  Yes.  I've  sailed  with  you  so  often,  I  don't  care  to  go 
with  any  one  else." 

"Well,  Rutherford,  I  needn't  say  I'll  be  delighted  to 
have  you ;  the  Queen  of  the  Waves  is  as  good  a  ship  as 
when  you  first  came  on  board  of  her ;  what  is  it — five 
years  ago  ?  " 

"Ay,  it  is  six,  my  friend." 

"  How  time  flies  to  be  sure  !  But  never  mind ;  the 
hurricane  never  blew  that  I  was  afraid  of  in  the  old 
Queen,  that  is  when  I  have  plenty  of  sea  room." 

"  But,"  said  the  colonel,  ' '  is  it  perfectly  safe  to  sail 
as  you  do,  without  convoy  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  cheapest  and  quickest  way,  anyhow  j  and  I 


58  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

think  I  could  show  a  clean  pair  of  heels  to  any  Frenchie 
that  ever  left  the  dock." 

"  You  have  been  chased  ?  " 

"  Ay,  my  lad,  more  than  once." 

"  Poodah." 

"  Yes,  sahib,"  said  Poodah,  advancing  from,  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Another  bottle  of  yellow  seal  claret ; — or  would  you 
rather  have  brandy-pawnee,  Grant  ?  " 

"  No  brandy-pawnee  for  me,  thank  you.  Brandy  digs 
British  graves,  and  claret  is  the  only  safe  drink  for 
India." 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Colonel  Rutherford,  "I've 
thought  more  than  once  about  that  strange  story  you 
told  me  of  the  supposed  diamond  and  hidden  treasure  of 
the  mountain  of  Carrickareen." 

"  So  do  I  think  of  it,  Rutherford.  Yes,  oftener  than 
I  ought  to,  for  it  may  be  all  a  myth.  But  if  there  be  a 
diamond,  and  if  there  be  buried  treasure,  it  belongs  by 
rights  to  me." 

"  Certainly ;  for  as  you  say,  your  wife — who  has  no  re- 
lations alive — was  the  only  descendant  of  those  unhappy 
murdered  McDonalds." 

"  Yes,  and  often  and  often  I  lie  awake  building  castles 
in  the  air  about  it.  Can  you  wonder  ?  " 

"  No,  Grant,  I  can't." 

"  There  are  few  lives  harder  than  that  of  the  sailor's, 
Rutherford,  much,  though  I  love  it ;  and  there  is  myself, 
toiling  away  on  this  ocean  wave,  when  if But  what 


On  Indian  Shores.  59 


is  the  use  of  '  when's '  and  '  if's ' ;  no,  no,  my  lot  is  cast, 
and  I'll  have  to  be  content  with  it.  But  there  is  my 
poor  boy.  Heigho  !  " 

It  was  not  the  first  time  that  Grant  had  told  his  friend 
about  the  supposed  diamond  and  the  buried  gold  of 
Carrickareen }  and  strange  to  say,  there  had  been  no 
more  attentive  listener  than  Poodah,  the  faithful  valet  of 
Colonel  Rutherford. 

The  friends  sat  to-night  and  talked  of  home  and  of 
long  ago,  till  past  midnight. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  Poodah,  when  he  brought  his 
master's  shaving-water,  appeared  gloomy  and  depressed. 
He  had  been  to  see  his  priests,  and  his  brow  was  be- 
daubed with  a  spot  of  yellow  clay. 

"Why,  Poodah,  old  man,"  said  the  colonel  laughing, 
'•'  you  look  about  as  happy  this  morning  as  a  bull-frog  in 
a  rat-trap.  Wife  been  pitching  into  you  again  ?  " 

"No,  sahib,  not  dis  time;  pVaps  iu  a  day  or  two  she 
break  my  head  again  with  the  box  iron,  same's  before. 
Same,  sahib,  as  she  do  ebery  moon.  But  I  not  care 
much  now,"  he  added  with  a  sigh. 

"  Why,  Poodah  ?  why  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  going  to  die.  Oh,  surely,  surely  I  die.  I 
not  care  to  lib  now,  since  young  sahib  he  go  away." 

"  I'm  sorry,  truly  sorry,  Poodah,  to  hear  you  talk  so." 

"  Yes,  and  suppose  I  not  die  quick,  I  jump  into  de 
great  well.  Die  plenty  soon.  '  Croak-croak-croak/ 1  cry, 
down  below  de  water,  like  de  frogs ;  den  lie  quiet  and 
still." 


GO  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Colonel  Rutherford  considered  the  matter  well.  He 
did  not  forget  that  his  boy  was  just  as  fond  of  Poodah  as 
Poodah  was  of  him. 

When  Poodah  appeared  with  the  tray  and  breakfast, 
the  colonel  addressed  him. 

"  Suppose  I  say  to  you,  Poodah,  '  Go  and  remain  with 
my  boy  till  I  return/  what  then  ?  " 

Poodah's  eyes  got  wider  at  every  word ;  then  he  rushed 
tablewards  and  deposited  the  tray  in  its  place,  and  next 
minute  he  had  fallen  at  his  master's  feet,  hugging  his 
very  legs  in  the  exuberance  of  his  joy. 

There  were  real  tears  trickling  down  his  cheeks  too. 
He  rose  next  to  a  kneeling  position,  placed  the  colonel's 
two  hands  on  his  head  for  a  moment,  and  then  springing 
up,  rushed  headlong  out  of  the  apartment. 

"  He  has  taken  it  for  granted  that  he  is  going,"  said 
Colonel  Rutherford  to  himself,  "  so  go  he  must.  Perhaps 
it  is  best." 

In  three  weeks  more  Poodah  was  afloat  on  the  ocean, 
and  we  know  the  way  he  appeared  at  Gowan  Lodge,  to 
the  joy  of  Dem  and  the  discomfiture  of  poor  Miss  McBride 
and  old  superstitious  Tibbie. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Keeper  McGregor  was  late  out  one  evening,  not  long 
after  the  arrival  of  Poodah  at  Gowan  Cottage,  and  be- 
fore the  boat  cruise  described  in  last  chapter.  McGregor 
was  oftentimes  abroad  after  dark,  even  in  summer,  for 
poachers  were  rife  in  these  old  days.  To  snare  or  shoot 
the  hares  or  rabbits,  or  even  the  deer,  on  another  man's 


On  Indian  Shores.  Gl 

property,  was  considered  no  sin.  They — the  poachers — 
were  but  "killing  God's  own  cattle  on  God's  own  hills." 
Only  when  they  cauie  across  sturdy  keeper  McGregor, 
he  put  matters  in  a  very  different  light  for  them. 

On  this  particular  night  the  tnoon  was  shining  "  as 
brightly  as  day,"  and  although  very  superstitious, 
McGregor  marched  boldly  along  the  footpath  that  led 
along  round  by  the  wooded  foot  of  the  hill  of  Carrie- 
kareen,  a  favourite  Gordon  setter  following  closely  at  his 
heels. 

His  gun  was  over  his  shoulder,  both  barrels  loaded, 
with  the  triggers  at  half-cock. 

He  was  making  his  way  homewards,  for  there  was  no 
trace  of  poachers  to-night,  and  hitherto  he  had  heard  no 
noise  which  he  could  not  easily  account  for. 

But  suddenly  a  sound  came  from  the  woods  close  by, 
that  made  his  heart  thump  against  his  sides,  the  blood 
run  cold  along  his  spine,  and  his  very  hair  feel  rising 
beneath  his  blue  bonnet.  The  very  dog  stood  still,  and 
his  hair  stood  up  from  crown  to  tail. 

A  long  drawn,  quavering,  unearthly  shriek  ! 

McGregor  quickly  crossed  himself  and  essayed  to  go 
on. 

But  next  moment,  right  in  his  pathway  stood  a  strange 
apparition,  black  in  face,  white  as  to  raiment,  and  with 
arms  erect  in  the  air. 

McGregor  fingered  his  gun.  The  apparition  stood 
stock  still,  and  the  man's  hands  refused  duty. 

Another  yell  rent  the  air;  then  the  keeper— a  man 


62  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

who,  single-handed,  had  fought  ere  now  against  half  a 
dozen  sturdy  poachers — fainted  and  fell. 

When  he  recovered,  the  dog  was  licking  his  face,  but 
there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  or  heard,  only  the  moon- 
light bathing  the  hills  and  the  woods  and  the  distant  sea. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    MOUNTAIN    CKUSOES. 

"  VERILY,  I  think 
Such  place  to  me  is  sometimes  like  a  dream." 

— Wordsworth. 

'  Here,  \vith  no  thirst  but  what  the  stream  can  slake, 
And  startled  only  by  the  rustling  brake, 
Cool  air  I  breathe." 

—Idem. 

T  isn't  a  bit  of  use/'   said  Willie  Grant, 
that  same  niglit  on  •which  they  had  been 
to  look  for  the  diamond-star;  " I  can't 
sleep,  I've  been  trying  for  half  an  hour, 
and  all  to  no  purpose.     Dem,  are  you  asleep  ? " 
"  No  ;  I've  been  thinking,  Willie." 
"  Just   exactly  what  I've  been  doing,  Dem,  and  you 
know  a  fellow  can't  think  and  sleep  both." 
"  Quite  true,  Willie." 

"  Well  then,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  propose.     It  is  this : 
let  us  get  up  and  talk  it  out." 

"I'm  ready!"  cried  Dein,  jumping  on  to  the  floor. 
"  There  is  no  need  to  dress,  is  there  ?  " 
"No;  light  the  candle." 


64  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  Shall  we  both  lie  in  bed  and  talk  across  to  each 
other  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  replied  Willie ;  "  we  should  have 
to  talk  too  loud,  and  you  know  what  kind  of  ears  Miss 
McBride  has." 

"  Oh  !  for  an  old  lady  they  are  wonderful." 

"  But  I  say,  Dem,"  continued  Willie,  "  I  know  how  to 
light  the  fire.  Here  are  all  the  bits  of  dry  wood  old 
Tibbie  left  for  the  morning,  and  the  morsel  of  peat  as 
well.  And  here  are  all  the  dry  peats.  You  just  watch 
for  a  minute,  and  see  how  nicely  things  can  be  done  when 
you  only  know  the  right  way." 

As  he  spoke,  with  deft  and  lissom  fingers  he  arranged 
the  wood  on  the  fireplace,  and  with  his  mouth  blew  up 
the  kindling  peat,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  they  all  began 
to  burn.  Crack,  crack,  went  the  blazing  wood,  and  little 
v.icked  sparks  flew  all  over  the  room. 

"  What  a  noise  the  wood  makes,  Willie !  "  said  Dem. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Willie ;  "  but  the  peats  are  caught  now. 
It  will  soon  be  all  right.  Now  get  up." 

Willie  went  to  the  back  of  the  door  and  got  a  great 
Highland  plaid  that  hung  there.  Then  he  arranged  the 
bolsters  for  a  seat,  and  down  in  front  of  the  blazing  fire, 
well  rolled  up  in  the  Highland  plaid,  sat  Willie  and  Dem. 

"  Won't  it  be  jolly  !  "  said  Willie. 

"It  will  be  everything  that  is  romantic  and  delightful," 
replied  Dem. 

"  Of  course  we  must  furnish  the  cave." 

"Yes;  we  must  have  seats,  anyhow." 


The  Mountain  Crusocs.  65 

"And  a  fireplace." 

"  Well,  yes— a  fireplace,  but— a " 

"  I  know  what  you  are  thinking  about,  Dem/'  said 
Willie. 

"  Tell  me  then." 

"  You  are  thinking  that  if  we  have  a  fireplace  the 
smoke  might  discover  us  to  some  of  those  roving  brats 
of  bird-nesting  boys." 

"That  is  just  it,  you  see,"  said  Dem. 

"  Ah,  but,"  said  Willie,  "  I  have  thought  of  a  plan." 

"Well?" 

"  Do  you  know,  Dem,  whom  that  mountain  belongs  to  ?" 

"  No ;  the  King,  perhaps." 

"So  far,  the  hill  does  itself,  but  the  woods  and  game 
— rabbits  I  mean — belong  to  Miss  McBride's  cousin." 

"Well,  what  of  that?" 

"  Only  this,"  said  Willie,  "  we  will  go  and  ask  per- 
mission to  make  that  cave  our  study,  then  the  other  boys 
will  have  no  business  there  at  all." 

"  Capital !  "  cried  Dem. 

"  And  if  they  dared  to  come,  after  a  fair  warning,  then 
we  could  pretend  to  roll  down  stones  on  them.  They 
couldn't  roll  them  back  again,  you  know." 

"  No,"  said  Dem,  laughing.  "  You  are  very  wise, 
Willie." 

"  Oh,"  said  Willie,  carelessly,  "  I  was  brought  up  in 
the  wilds,  you  know." 

From  the  above  conversation,  the  reader  will  be  aware 
that  the  boys  had  found  the  cave,  or  a  cave  at  all  events, 

E 


G6  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

on  the  mountain  side.  The  disappearance  from  the  hill 
of  the  mysterious  shining  star  had  not  deterred  the  boys, 
in  company  with  their  friend  Poodah,  from  instituting  a 
search  for  the  cave. 

They  had  done  so  very  scientifically.  They  had  taken 
their  bearings  from  sea  as  well  as  they  could,  then  on 
the  very  next  day  had  started  their  search  expedition. 

Far  up  the  mountain  brow  they  clambered,  as  light- 
footed  and  as  nimble  as  so  many  cats,  but  Willie  was 
quite  surprised  at  the  agility  displayed  by  Poodah.  He 
bounded  from  rock  to  rock  and  from  crag  to  crag  as  if 
he  had  been  a  wild  deer.  Across  and  across  the  mountain 
the  trio  went,  and  up  and  down,  and  this  they  continued 
until  all  were  tired  and  weary.  Then  they  sat  down  to 
eat  their  modest  luncheon,  for  the  sun  was  already 
beginning  to  decline  in  the  west. 

"If  there  is  a  cave,  we'll  have  it,"  Dem  had  said 
doggedly. 

"  We  sliaVfc  give  in,"  said  Willie. 

"No,"  from  Dem;  f"'we  shouldn't  leave  a  stone  un- 
turned to  find  it." 

Now  this  expression  of  Dem's  about  not  leaving  a 
stone  unturned  was  purely  figurative,  but  no  sooner  had 
the  words  escaped  than  Poodah  sprang  up. 

"  I  have  it !  "  he  cried.  "  Come  with  me,  come  !  Dere 
is  a  loose  stone  not  far  from  where  we  sit.  I  touched  he, 
moved  he,  but  never  thought  to  roll  he  back.  Come  !  " 

He  led  them  a  little  way  down  the  hill.  Here  was  a 
patch  of  furze  and  myrtle,  and  near  the  bottom  of  it  lay 


TJie  Mountain  Crusoes.  67 

a  great  stone.  It  took  all  Poodah's  strength  to  move  it 
aside. 

No  sooner  was  it  moved,  however,  than  both  Willie 
and  Dera  uttered  exclamations  of  delight :  the  entrance 
to  the  cave  lay  before  them  ! 

They  crawled  in,  and  as  soon  as  they  got  accustomed 
to  the  dim  light,  they  found  themselves  in  a  large  though 
not  spacious  room  At  one  side  or  corner  light  glim- 
mered in  from  the  top.  There  had  evidently  been  a  fire- 
place and  chimney,  and  they  were  not  a  little  astonished 
to  find  evidence  that  a  fire  had  been  burning  here  at  no 
very  remote  date. 

Young  as  he  was,  Willie  could  not  help  connecting 
this  new  discovery  with  the  disappearance  of  the  moun- 
tain-star and  with  the  hermit  fisherman  and  his  sudden 
departure.  He  said  nothing  to  Poodah  about  that  at 
the  time,  but  he  mentioned  his  thoughts  to  Dem  as  they 
sat  by  the  fire  in  their  bedroom  that  night. 

"  Well/1  said  Dem,  "  never  mind.  We've  found  the 
cave,  and  we  have  a  good  right  to  make  use  of  it*  The 
hermit,  I  suppose,  doesn't  pay  any  rent." 

"  What  if  he  comes  back  and  tries  to  turn  us  out  ?  " 

"Roll  down  stones  on  him,"  said  Dem,  laughing. 

Old  Tibbie  had  to  knock  and  re-knock  and  finally 
enter  the  boys'  room  next  morning,  before  she  could  get 
them  to  awake. 

"  My  dear  bonnie  laddies,"  said  Tibbie,  "  the  sun  has 
been  shinin'  o'er  Dungrat  for  mony  and  mony  an  hour." 

But  the   truth  is  the  sun  had   begun  to  shine  over 


68  In  the  DasMng  Days  of  OU. 

Dimgrat  before  the  boys  had  gone  finally  to  bed,  only 
they  didn't  tell  Tibbie  that. 

"  Now,  boys,"  said  Miss  McBride  at  breakfast,  "  I'm 
sure  you  miss  school  very,  very  much." 

Neither  spoke.     So  Miss  McBride,  said  pointedly, 

"Don't  you?" 

"  We  don't,  Miss  McBride." 

The  lady  looked  disappointed,  but  said,  after  a  pause : 

"  I'm  glad,  at  all  events,  you  so  frankly  tell  the  truth 
about  it." 

"  Poodah  is  teaching  me  Hindoostanee,"  said  Willie. 

"  And  I'm  learning  Sanscrit,"  added  Dem. 

"  Well,  well,  boys,  I  hope  it  will  do  you  good ;  but  I 
could  never  see  any  use  in  these  dead  languages." 

Both  the  boys  laughed  heartily,  and  then  Willie 
proceeded  to  tell  her  all  about  the  cave,  and  their 
intentions  and  hopes  and  wishes  about  it ;  and  though 
there  was  nothing  at  all  romantic  in  Miss  McBride's 
nature,  she  did  not  see  that  any  harm  could  come  to  her 
boys  by  letting  them  have  their  own  way  in  the  matter. 
So  an  hour  or  two  after,  Willie  and  Dem  were  making 
their  way  to  Harthill  House,  the  residence  of  the  landed 
proprietor  mentioned  in  this  chapter,  and  they  carried 
with  them  a  note  from  Miss  McBride. 

The  gentleman  was  old  and  an  invalid.  He  kept 
Willie  and  Dem  to  lunch,  laughed  and  chaffed  with  them 
about  the  cave,  told  them  they  were  going  to  turn 
troglodytes,  and  finally  sent  them  off  very  happy  boys 
indeed. 


The  Mountain  Crusoes.  69 

They  had  not  the  slightest  idea  what  a  troglodyte  was, 
but  they  soon  turned  up  the  word  in  a  dictionary,  and 
then  they  knew. 

They  called  on  the  keeper  in  the  evening,  and  ex- 
plained to  him  that  they  had  taken  possession  of  a  cave 
nearly  at  the  top  of  the  mountain,  where  they  could  get 
a  lovely  view  of  the  sea,  and  where  they  would  be  able 
to  study  natural  history  and  Hindoostanee. 

McGregor,  the  keeper,  knew  not  what  either  of  these 
studies  represented,  but  he  turned  up  his  hands  in  as- 
tonishment and  his  eyes  in  horror. 

"Go  not  near  the  hill,"  he  said,  "nor  near  the  cave,  if 
there  be  one.  An  evil  spirit  haunts  that  hill  and  wood." 

"  Have  you  seen  ifc  ?  "  Willie  asked  him. 

"  I  have  seen  it  once,"  said  the  keeper,  "  and  many 
others  have  seen  and  heard  it.  And  the  wilder  the 
night,  the  more  fearfully  and  mournfully  that  spirit 
howls.  Go  not  near  the  hill,  boys;  be  advised  by  me, 
lest  harm  befall  you." 

"Well,  anyhow,"  said  Willie  stoutly,  "we  have 
liberty  to  go  there  from  the  proprietor.  And  mind, 
Mr.  McGregor,  no  other  boys  have." 

"No  other  boys  would  dare  to  go  to  the  wood  or 
hill,  even  by  day.  One  went  once  to  seek  for  a  white 
owl's  nest.  His  mangled  body  was  found  at  the  foot 
of  the  crag,  a  fortnight  after." 

Now,  although  he  had  lived  so  long  in  the  wilds 
of  the  Scottish  Highlands,  Willie  Grant  was  not  super- 
stitious. He  believed  not  in  the  supernatural,  and  so 


70  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

as  the  keeper  told  him  the  story  about  the  evil  spirit, 
he  could  not  help  thinking  of  what  the  hermit  fisherman 
had  also  told  him.  Dem  and  he  talked  it  over  that  same 
evening. 

"  There  is  something  in  it,  Dem,"  said  Willie. 

"  That  fisher  fellow,"  replied  Dem,  "is  at  the  bottom 
of  it." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  think  myself/'  Willie  said ;  "  but 
time  will  tell." 

Even  Robinson  Crusoe  did  not  set  himself  more 
earnestly  to  get  his  house  in  comfortable  order  than  did 
Dem  and  Willie  to  furnish  their  cave ;  and  Poodah 
assisted  them,  and  like  a  good  fairy  did  ten  times  more 
work  than  either  of  them. 

The  big  stone  was  rolled  on  one  side ;  then,  by  means 
of  some  picks  and  spades  they  had  brought  from  Miss 
McBride's  cottage  for  the  purpose,  they  proceeded  to 
enlarge  the  entrance  to  something  like  the  size  and 
shape  of  a  real  doorway. 

"It  wouldn't  be  difficult  to  make  a  doorway,  I  think," 
said  Dem  ;  "  then  you  know,  we  could  have  a  lock  or  a 
bolt  to  it,  and  nobody  could  come  in." 

"  Capital !  "  said  Willie,  looking  at  Poodah. 

Poodah  shook  his  grey  ringlets  and  smiled.  The  work, 
he  knew,  devolved  on  him. 

So  the  door  was  made  at  home,  and  carried  to  the  cave 
in  pieces,  and  finally  put  up. 

It  fitted  beautifully,  but  Poodah  was  not  content  until 
he  had  planted  bushes  on  each  side,  in  such  a  way  as  to 


The  Mountain  Crusoes.  71 

entirely  conceal  the  doorway.  The  next  thing  was  to 
thoroughly  clear  out  the  cave;  this  was  nob  a  difficult 
task,  for  the  walls  and  floor  were  of  solid  stone,  and  the 
marks  of  tools  on  the  rock  gave  ample  evidence  that  the 
place  had  either  been  entirely  excavated,  or  at  all  events 
enlarged,  by  human  hands.  It  might  have  been  a 
smuggler's  den,  or  a  prison-house,  or  a  hiding-place  of 
some  of  the  chiefs  of  the  clans  in  by-gone  troublesome 
times. 

Several  great  bats  were  dislodged  from  the  roof,  and 
many  strange  creeping  things  had  to  take  the  hint  and 
betake  themselves  to  other  quarters.  Then  a  great  fire 
was  lighted,  and  the  boys  were  astonished  to  find  that 
every  particle  of  smoke  found  its  way  up  the  rude 
chimney. 

"  This  is  first-rate  !  "  said  Willie.  "  Now,  in  order  to 
be  thoroughly  comfortable  as  troglodytes,  we  must 
furnish  our  cave." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  cried  Dem,  "  we  must  furnish,  and  the 
more  rudely  it  is  furnished  the  better,  I  think." 

"  So  long  as  it  is  reasonably  comfortable." 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,  it  must  be  that." 

"  I  know/'  said  Willie,  "  that  Miss  McBridc  would  let 
us  have  a  few  chairs." 

"  But  I  know  we  won't  have  them,"  said  Dem.  "  Let 
us  make  the  seats." 

Once  more  the  services  of  Poodah,  the  good  fairy,  were 
called  into  requisition;  tools  and  nails  were  borrowed 
from  home,  there  were  any  number  of  branches  of  tree? 


72  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

to  be  had,  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  to  say  nothing  of  whole 
fir  trees  that  had  blown  down  years  ago,  and  lay  lumber- 
ing the  ground.  So  Poodah  set  to  work  in  right  good 
earnest,  and  before  a  week  was  over  he  had  made  not 
only  three  good  rough  but  nseful  chairs,  one  of  which 
was  a  rockiug  one,  but  a  light  if  not  graceful  kind  of  a 
lounge  as  well. 

They  went  to  the  cave  now  every  day,  but  they  did 
not  always  take  the  same  route  :  they  wished  to  avoid 
making  a  beaten  track,  as  they  feared  this  might  discover 
their  sanctum  to  the  many  bands  of  predatory — bird- 
nesting — boys  who  were  almost  daily  on  the  prowl  along 
the  sea-shore,  and  even  in  the  wood  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill. 

They  spent  nearly  all  the  day  at  or  about  the  cave, 
taking  luncheon  with  them  when  they  left  in  the  morning, 
and  returning  to  dinner  in  the  evening  as  hungry,  and 
quite  as  happy,  as  hunters.  Miss  McBride  knew  they 
were  safe,  and  that  they  were  enjoying  themselves,  so 
her  mind  was  at  ease. 

While  Poodah  was  making  the  chairs  and  the  dais, 
Dem  and  Willie  busied  themselves  manufacturing  a  book- 
case. The  construction  of  this  was  simple  in  the  extreme. 
They  got  a  large  flat  box  from  Tibbie,  and  a  quantity  of 
old  wall-paper,  and  this  they  carried  in  triumph  to  the 
cave.  Then  they  shaped  two  shelves  and  fitted  them  into 
the  box ;  next  they  lined  these  shelves  and  the  whole  of 
the  inside  with  the  wall-paper.  When  set  on  one  end 
now,  it  really  looked  a  very  respectable  little  bookcase ; 


The  Mountain  Cmsoes.  73 

but  Willie  got  hold  of  another  idea,  which  he  forthwith 
proceeded  to  carry  out.  He  stripped  pieces  of  rough 
elm  bark  from  trees,  and  shaped  them  with  his  knife,  and 
nailed  them  with  tacks  all  along  the  exposed  edges  and 
sides  and  top  of  the  case.  Dem  was  surprised  at  his 
ingenuity,  and  when  the  thing  was  finished  even  Poodah 
confessed  that  it  looked  most  artistic ;  and  so  indeed  it 
did.  Thus  encouraged,  Willie  got  more  wood  and  made 
pretty  shelves  for  the  walls,  and  little  brackets  for  the 
corners  of  the  cave,  covering  them  all  in  the  same  way 
with  rough  bark. 

The  furnishing  of  the  cave  was  rapidly  approaching 
completion. 

"What  a  pity,"  said  Willie  one  day,  "that  we  can't 
have  a  carpet.  The  floor  seems  so  cold  and  hard,  doesn't 
it,  Dem  ?  " 

"It  does  feel  rather  bare,"  Dem  replied. 

Poodah  smiled. 

"  We  shall  have  one  carpet,"  he  said  quietly. 

The  very  next  day,  much  to  their  delight,  Poodah 
despatched  Dem  and  Willie  to  the  distant  village  to  make 
some  purchases. 

All  that  Poodah  had  told  them  to  get  was  a  kettle, 
a  coffee-pot,  some  cups  and  saucers,  and  the  requisite 
groceries. 

But  the  boys  didn't  stop  at  this.  Going  shopping  was 
a  treat  that  did  not  come  in  their  way  very  often. 

"  Who  knows,"  said  Dem,  "  but  that  we  may  catch  a 
rabbit,  and  get  Poodah  to  curry  it." 


74  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  A  grand  idea  !  "  said  Willie.  "  So  we  want  a  stew- 
pan." 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Dem,  "and  some  plates  and 
things." 

"  Then  we  can  always  catch  fish." 

"Yes,"  cried  Willie.  "  What  fun  !  We  shall  want  a 
frying-pan." 

And  so  they  went  on,  baying  and  baying,  until  their 
money  was  all  done,  and  the  old  carrier  had  quite  a 
number  of  packages  to  leave  at  Miss  McBride's.  When 
they  went  with  Poodah  next  day  to  the  cave,  they  could 
hardly  believe  their  eyes ;  the  floor  was  covered  with  a 
carpet  as  soft  as  any  Turkey  mat,  and  far  more  fragrant. 
It  was  most  ingeniously  woven  from  the  Smallest  branches 
of  the  spruce  fir. 

The  cave  was  far  away  up  on  the  mountain  brow,  and 
as  they  determined  to  spend  whole  evenings  there,  and 
it  would  be  cold  after  sunset,  they  laid  in  a  store  of  nice 
dry  wood  and  peats  to  burn. 

One  of  the  purchases  consisted  of  a  huge  lamp,  which 
they  managed  with  some  difficulty  to  affix  to  the  wall  of 
the  cave,  and  when  it  was  lighted,  it  made  all  the  place 
as  bright  as  day. 

Now  during  the  time  the  furnishing  and  doing  up  of 
the  cave  was  going  on,  books  and  reading  had  been  quite 
forgotten.  This  was  not  right ;  both  Willie  and  Dem 
knew  that ;  so  they  determined  to  get  up  early  every 
morning,  and  devote  a  few  hours  to  study,  after  which 
they  could  have  all  the  golden  day  to  themselves,  and  be 


Mountain  CrusoeS.  75 


as  free  as  the  wind  to  do  as  they  pleased.  The  plan 
answered  admirably,  because  having  done  their  work, 
they  could  enjoy  the  rest  of  the  day  with  easy  minds. 

Now,  all  about  the  mountain  where  the  cave  was,  the 
rabbits  ran  in  thousands. 

.Seldom  or  never  did  the  keeper  or  any  one  else  come 
to  shoot  them,  because  the  ground  was  so  stony  that 
however  many  you  might  see  at  a  time,  no  sooner  was 
one  shot  fired  than  all  the  bunnies  disappeared  into  their 
holes,  as  if  by  magic.  Babbits  were  vermin  here,  and 
the  keeper  McGregor  could  have  all  he  killed  to  sell  or 
to  give  away.  Yet  McGregor  much  preferred  not  to 
trouble  about  them.  But  Poodah  proved  himself  quite 
an  adept  at  snare-work.  So  every  other  day  Dem  and 
Willie  took  to  the  keeper's  house  in  the  wood  some 
rabbits. 

The  keeper's  little  boy,  Josh,  brought  back  the  skins, 
and  he  used  to  bring  to  the  cave  both  milk  and  butter 
as  well;  so  upon  the  whole  the  troglodytes  were  nob 
badly  off. 

The  rabbits'  skins  were  cured,  and  lined  with  red  flan- 
nel, and  thus  made  very  delightful  rugs  for  the  chairs 
and  the  sofa  or  dais. 

I  don't  think  any  boys  were  ever  so  truly  happy  before, 
as  Dem  and  Willie  were  in  their  strange  abode  in  the 
wilds.  And  Poodah  was  never  tired  ministering  to 
their  wants  and  comforts.  Oh  !  the  delicious  fries  and 
stews  and  curries  he  used  to  prepare  for  their  luncheon 
and  supper  ! 


76  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  It  is  delightful,  isn't  it,  Dem,  to  catch  one's  own  fish 
and  have  them  cooked  in  one's  own  cave  ?  I  would 
rather  be  a  troglodyte  than  anything  else;  wouldn't 
you,  Dem  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Dein. 

There  is  no  doubt  it  was  all  very  romantic,  but — a 
storm  was  brewing  that  they  little  thought  of. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   ATTACK   ON   THE   CAVE,   AND   HOW   IT   ENDED. 

"  On,  aid  me  then  to  seek  the  pair, 
Alone  I  dare  not  venture  there, 
Where  walks,  they  say,  the  shrieking  ghost." 

— Scott. 

HE  parish  school  of  Glengair  was  one  of  the 
best  on  all  the  western  coast  of  Scotland, 
and  boys  were  sent  from  far  and  near  to 
this  Highland  seat  of  learning. 
The  pedagogue — who  ruled  as  king  and  priest  therein, 
the  rattan  cane  or  leathern  tawse  being  his  sceptre — was 
really  clever,  and  his  heart  was  in  his  work  and  with  his 
boys.  In  these  bygone  times  it  was  usual  to  conduct 
the  services  of  the  school  in  Gaelic — although  English 
had  to  be  used  when  addressing  the  master — on  every 
day  of  the  week  except  Friday.  But  Dominie  Reed 
reversed  the  order  of  things,  and  with  the  exception  of 
Saturdays,  the  whole  week  was  devoted  to  study  in  the 
English  language. 

The  teacher  did   not  consider  that   his    duties  were 
ended  when  school  was   over.     No ;  for  almost   every 

77 


78  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

evening  all  the  year  round,  he  visited  the  home  of  some 
boy.  The  parents  were  invariably  glad  to  see  him,  es- 
pecially as  he  always  brought  his  fiddle  with  him,  on 
which  instrument  he  was  a  most  excellent  performer;  so 
that  Dominie  Reed's  appearance  at  any  house  was  always 
the  signal  for  a  dance  in  the  barn,  or  even  out  on  the 
green  in  summer  evenings.  But  always  before  the  old 
fiddle  was  taken  out  of  the  green  baize  bag,  the  Dominie 
had  his  tea  with  the  old  folks,  a  prayer  having  been 
previously  offered  up  and  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  read. 

So  it  may  well  be  conceived  that  this  old-fashioned 
schoolmaster  was  a  favourite.  As  before  hinted,  how- 
ever, he  was  a  most  strict  disciplinarian.  And  Dominie 
Reed  was  like  Goldsmith's  curate,  surpassing  rich — not 
on  forty,  but  on  thirty  pounds  a  year.  To  be  sure  he 
had  his  firing  free,  and  house-rent  was  paid  for  him. 

The  firing  was  thus  procured :  every  day  one  half  of 
the  schoolboys  had  to  bring  each  a  nice  dry  peat  in  his 
hand.  And  sure  enough,  if  any  one  forgot  his  duty  in 
this  respect,  he  was  likely  to  be  reminded  of  it  in  modo 
flagellante,  a  method  of  improving  the  memory  which  was 
exceedingly  common  in  Scottish  schools  of  the  olden 
times,  when,  if  a  boy  escaped  a  caning  on  any  one  day, 
he  was  very  much  astonished  indeed,  and  quite  sure  in 
his  own  mind  that  the  teacher  would  make  up  for  it  on 
the  next  by  administering  to  him  a  double  dose. 

One  good  custom  in  those  days — still  kept  up  in  many- 
country  schools — was  that  of  making  the  Book  of  books 
a  subject  for  everyday  study;  the  Psalms,  and  many 


The  Attack  on  the  Cave,  and  How  it  Ended,    79 

chapters  of  the  New  Testament  having  to  be  got  by 
heart  and  repeated  on  the  Saturdays.  The  duties  of  the 
day  were  always  ushered  in  by  prayer,  and  closed  in  the 
same  way. 

With  all  this  much-to-be-admired  religious  feeling, 
there  were  practices  customary  at  those  schools  which 
we  cannot  now-a-days  read  of  without  a  feeling  akin  to 
horror.  It  is  only  because  I  desire  to  tell  the  truth  and 
hide  nothing,  that  I  mention  one  of  these,  namely, 
cock-fighting.  On  a  certain  day — the  first  of  the  year 
usually — nearly  every  boy  was  supposed  to  bring  a  cock 
to  school  with  him,  and  that  day  the  inhuman  sport 
commenced.  The  slain  birds  and  the  beaten  and  cowed 
birds  all  belonged  to  the  teacher,  while  the  cock  that 
was  declared  victorious  was  taken  home  by  his  owner, 
the  owner  himself  being  dubbed  king  of  the  school  for 
a  year  to  come. 

We  must  not,  however,  think  too  hardly  of  the  teach- 
ers and  pupils,  of  those  schools  of  long  ago,  for  remember, 
that  in  the  matter  of  cruelty  to  animals,  people  err  for 

"...  want  of  thought, 
As  well  as  want  of  heart." 

Let  us  rather  be  thankful  the  times  have  changed, 
and  that  we  no  longer  regard  our  pet  animals,  whether 
biid  or  beast,  as  creatures  to  be  tormented  or  even  made 
fun  of,  but  as  creations  of  that  great  Being  who,  even  in 
the  beginning  of  the  world,  looked  upon  His  work  and 
saw  that  it  was  good. 


80  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Now  at  this  same  school  of  Glengair,  I  arn  not  going 
to  aver  that  there  were  not  bad  boys  as  well  as  good. 
There  always  have  been  the  good  and  the  bad  at  schools, 
just  as  there  is  in  that  great  school  called  the  world, 
which  every  one  has  to  enter  when  the  days  of  his 
pupilage  are  over,  and  he  would  be  a  false  chronicler  or 
historian  who  should  describe  the  good  only,  and  leave 
the  bad  alone,  or  to  be  inferred. 

Archie  Clark  and  Tom  Sinclair,  then,  were  the  two  most 
daring  and  mischievous  boys  in  all  the  parish,  school, 
though  strange  to  say  there  were  in  the  inmost  hearts  of 
these  lads  a  kernel  of  virtue  which  I  sincerely  hope,  for 
their  own  sakes,  was  more  fully  developed  in  after-life. 
But  for  all  that  I  am  bound  to  say,  that  you  might  have 
searched  all  the  parish,  and  not  have  found  another  pair 
to  match  them  in  mischief. 

I  have  given  the  names  by  which  they  were  entered 
on  the  school  register,  and  by  which  the  teacher  and 
pupil-teachers  always  designated  them.  But  their 
schoolmates  had  manufactured  other  and  shorter  names 
for  these  lads,  with  which,  whether  they  liked  them  or 
not,  they  were  obliged  to  be  content; 

Archie  came,  or  had  originally  come,  from  the  far-off 
town  of  Peterhead,  celebrated  not  only  for  its  herring 
boats  and  its  fleet  of  splendid  ships,  that  year  after  year 
leave  the  port  to  try  conclusions  with  seals,  whales,  and 
Arctic  bears  in  the  stormy  regions  around  the  Pole,  but 
for  a  species  of  very  hard,  reddish  stone,  beautifully 
ticked  and  flecked,  and  capable  of  takin°-  the  finest 


The  Attack  on  the  Cave,  and  How  it  Ended.    81 

polish  imaginable.  The  stone  is  known  all  over  the 
world  as  Peterhead  granite.  "Well,  Archie  Clark  had 
hair  of  a  fiery  red,  his  face  was  also  red,  and  like 
the  stone  of  his  native  town,  well  ticked  and  flecked. 
No  wonder  then  that  the  other  boys  called  him 
"  Granite." 

His  head  was  like  granite  in  another  way,  it  was 
dreadfully  hard;  but  there  the  similitude  ended,  for 
Archie's  head  was  not  capable  of  taking  the  finest  polish. 
Clever  in  a  good  many  ways,  you  might  have  called 
Archie,  but  polished — no ! 

Hard  ?  Yes,  indeed,  that  head  of  his  was  hard.  His 
schoolmates,  or  rather  the  very  few  among  them  who 
were  bold  enough  to  try  fisticuffs  with  Granite,  hurt  their 
knuckles  on  his  head,  and  made  no  impression  on  it 
either.  You  might  as  well  have  tried  to  box  with  the 
village  pump. 

Granite  had  a  method  of  fighting  that  was  peculiarly 
his  own.  He  used  to  run  in  against  his  antagonist  with 
his  head  down,  and  his  arms  whirling  round  on  each  side 
like  two  flails.  Few  boys  could  stand  such  an  onslaught. 
Even  if  they  hit  him  from  under,  it  did  not  stay  the 
charge,  though  it  might  bleed  his  nose.  Granite  cared 
nothing  for  a  bleeding  nose.  His  nose  was  as  often 
bleeding  as  not,  and  he  seldom  wanted  a  black  eye.  I 
think  he  preferred  it. 

He  was  a  naughty  boy;  but  a  plucky  one  for  all  that. 
He  was  caned  every  day  of  his  life,  and  sometimes  twice, 
but  he  was  never  known  to  cry. 

F 


82  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Granite  was  guilty  of  about  half  the  mischief  that  was 
done  within  the  school  walls  and  within  a  radius  of  half 
a  mile  around  it;  and  Tom  Sinclair  was  guilty  of  the 
other  half.  There  is  no  mistake  about  that,  for  even  the 
tricks  they  did  not  play  themselves,  they  incited  or  led 
on  other  boys  to  perform. 

Tom  Sinclair  and  Archie  were  always  together.  Tom 
was  a  "long"  boy.  I  use  the  adjective  "long"  in  pre- 
ference to  "  tall/'  because, .^ojn.  spent  nearly  as  much  of 
his  existence  on  all  fours  as-; erect.  This  earned  for  him 
the  name  of  Foumart.*  During  school  hours  you  might 
very  often  miss  Tom  out  of  his  place,  and  look  around  in 
vain  for  him.  Tom  would  be  down  under  somewhere. 
Possibly  he  might  be  merely  lying  asleep  under  a  desk, 
but  more  likely  he  would  be  creeping  around  among  the 
legs  of  the  other  lads,  pinching  calves,  sticking  pins  in 
ankles,  spilling  ink,  sketching  the  schoolmaster,  or  carry- 
ing on  a  conversation  with  some  boy  nearly  as  bad  as 
himself,  relative  to  mischief  to  be  transacted  after  school 
hours. 

I  don't  tliiuk  that  either  Granite  or  Foumart  shed  any 
tears  of  regret  when  they  found  that  the  school  was  to 
be  closed  for  months.  To  their  way  of  thinking,  indeed, 
it  was  a  piece  of  unheard-of  luck;  for  would  they  not 
Lave  all  the  long,  glorious  days  of  summer  before  them, 
to  roam  through  the  country,  to  bird-nest,  to  fish,  to 
climb  trees,  to  dig  for  rabbits,  for  foumarts  and  whitte- 

*  Scottice,  foumart  =  polecat. 


The  Attack  on  the  Cave,  and  How  it  Ended.    83 

rits,*  and  to  enjoy  life  in  their  own  wild  way,  free  and 
unfettered! 

To  be  sure  they  would  not  have  so  many  companions ; 
but  they  knew  where  several  boys  of  their  own  stamp 
lived,  and  if  they  wanted  assistance,  they  could  always 
make  certain  of  it. 

Granite  and  Foumart  lived  in  the  same  small  village  or 
"  clachan,"  and  of  course  they  met  every  day. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Grannie  !  "  cried  Foumart,  one  morning, 
"I've  such  news  for  you.  Such  rare  news  !  " 

"  Go  on,  tell  us/' 

"  Well,  young  Grautie  and  that  Indian  boy  have  made 
a  house  of  some  kind  near  the  top  of  Carrick  Hill." 

"  They  wouldn't  dare,  they'd  be  afraid.  There's  the 
boddack,  you  know." 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  I  saw  them  go  up,  both  of  them, 
with  books  in  their  hands,  and  I  followed  them  and 
watched  them,  and  saw  the  smoke.  Oh,  they've  got  a 
regular  nice  place,  I  feel  quite  sure." 

"Well,"  said  Granite,  "  what  right  have  they  up  there 
any  more  than  we  ?  I  don't  like  that  Indian  chap, — you 
mind  he  drew  his  dirk  at  me  ? — and  I  never  liked  Grant. 
Ilurrah  !  we'll  rouse  them  out.  I  feel  all  over  full  of 
fighting." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Foumart.  "  I  can  guide  you  to  the 
place.  But  we  better  make  sure,  we'll  get  Bob  and 
Benjie  and  Webster  to  go  with  us>" 

*  Whitterits  -  weasels. 


84  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

The  boys  named  were  like  themselves,  Bedouins.  The 
five  lads  met  at  the  riverside  that  very  evening,  and  held 
a  council  of  war,  at  which  it  was  determined  to  storm 
the  cave,  to  thrash  Dem  and  Willie,  and  occupy  their 
house. 

Benjie  was  the  smallest,  and  he  was  sent  up  the  hill 
to  reconnoitre.  He  got  near  enough,  the  cave,  without 
being  discovered,  to  see  the  smoke  curling  up  through 
the  bushes,  and  to  hear  the  sounds  of  talking  and  laugh- 
ing in  the  cave  itself;  but  he  could  see  no  doorway. 

Benjie  returned,  and  duly  gave  in  his  report  to 
Granite,  and  next  day,  about  noon,  was  appointed  as 
the  time  for  the  attack. 

"  For,"  said  Granite,  "  about  that  time  they  will  very 
likely  be  having  something  to  eat.  Don't  I  wish  it  were 
to-morrow,  just." 

Then  they  went  away  along  the  shore,  and  eacli  cut 
for  himself  a  stout  hickory  stick,  and  filled  his  pockets 
with  small  round  stones, 

"I  wonder  what  mischief  they  can  be  after  now,"  said 
wee  Josh,  the  keeper's  boy.  "I  expect  somebody's 
going  to  catch  it,  else  they  wouldn't  be  cutting  those 
sticks  and  gathering  stones.  I'll  creep  a  little  nearer 
and  hear  what  they  say." 

Josh  was  a  strange  little  fellow ;  perhaps  no  one  has 
ever  seen  before  or  since  so  perfect  a  little  waif  of  the 
wilds.  He  was  very  tiny,  never  wore  a  cap,  his  yellowish 
sun-bleached  hair  was  all  the  protection  his  head  re- 
quired. He  had  a  face  like  a  ferret's,  clothes  the  colour 


The  Attack  on  the  Cave,  and  How  it  Ended.    85 

of  the  dun  earth  he  was  always  creeping  in,  and  bare 
legs  and  feet,  usually  torn  and  bleeding  with  thorns. 
He  was  small  enough  to  get  into  a  rabbit's  burrow ;  or 
if  he  could  not  quite  get  in,  he  enlarged  the  hole  with  a 
long-shafted  little  mole-spade  he  seldom  went  without. 

The  conspirators  did  not  perceive  Josh,  or  it  might 
have  been  bad  for  him. 

Now  Josh  dearly  loved  Dein  and  Willie,  in  his  own 
way,  and  no  sooner  had  he  found  out  what  was  going 
to  happen,  than  he  sought  them  out  in  the  cave  and 
told  them  all  about  it. 

Cl  Forewarned  is  forearmed/'  said  Willie. 

Dem's  eyes  shot  fire. 

"  The  scoundrels  !  "  he  said,  <f  we'll  give  them  a  warm 
reception,  anyhow." 

Next  day,  Josh,  peeping  over  the  edge  of  a  rabbit's 
burrow,  saw  the  five  Bedouins  advancing  through  tho 
wood  to  attack  the  cave,  and  hurried  up  by  a  short  cut 
to  give  warning. 

For  some  reason  of  his  own,  Poodah  remained  inside 
the  cave,  while  Dem  and  Willie  had  gone  a  little  way 
down  the  hill  and  hidden  behind  a  bush.  Here  they 
determined  to  defend  themselves.  But  this  after  all 
turned  out  to  be  but  a  reconnaissance,  in  force;  the 
real  attack  was  postponed. 

"  I  move/'  said  Granite,  "  that  we  go  home  now,  and 
meet  again  in  this  very  place  as  soon  as  gloaming  falls." 

"  I  say,  though,"  said  Foumart,  somewhat  doubtfully, 
"I  shouldn't  like  to  meet  the  evil  spirit,  you  know." 


8G  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"Bother  the  evil  spirit,"  cried  Granite  impatiently. 
"  If  you're  afraid,  Foumart,  you  can  stop  at  home  with 
your  auntie." 

"  Afraid,  no  ! "  said  Foumart  boldly.  "  I  never  feared 
aca  of  clay;  but  a  spirit — an  evil  spirit,  and  we  do 
know  there  is  one — haunts  these  woods  at  night.  Ah ! 
Granite,  that  is  another  thing." 

"Well,"  said  Granite,  "I  might  bo  afraid  myself  of 
the  awful  creature  that  has  been  seen  here  so  often,  but 
to  get  revenge  I'll  risk  it." 

"  Well,  then,  so  will  I,"  said  Foumart. 

"And  so  will  I,"  said  Benjie  and  the  others. 

"  Look  !  look  !"  whispered  Foumart,  "  what  was  that  ? 
Something  moved  in  the  bush  yonder.  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  it.  It  was  like  a  hare." 

A  simultaneous  rush  was  made  for  the  bush  that  had 
been  seen  to  move,  but  nothing  was  found.  Twenty 
minutes  after  that  Josh  appeared  at  the  cave  again,  and 
was  gladly  welcomed  in. 

"What  news?"  said  Dem  and  Willie,  both  in  one 
breath. 

"News!"  replied  little  Josh;  "oh,  such  news! 
They  are  going  to  burn  you  all  out  as  soon  as  it  is 
dark." 

And  then  Josh  told  the  boys  every  word  he  had  heard 
uttered  by  the  five  conspirators. 

"  We  must  fight  them,  Willie,"  said  Dem. 

"  And  it  will  bo  worse  at  night,"  said  Willie. 

"No,  children,  no ! "  exclaimed  Poodah.     "  To-day,  I 


The  Attack  on  the  Gave,  and  How  it  Ended.    87 

stayed  in  the  cave;  to-night,  you  shall.  I  will  go  and 
meet  them  alone." 

Poodah  then  explained  his  plan,  and  the  sequel  will 
show  how  it  was  carried  out. 

Miss  McBride  missed  her  boys  at  dinner  that  afternoon, 
but  little  Josh  dropped  in  and  gave  Tibbie  a  letter  for 
her  mistress,  and  she  presented  him  with  a  very  large 
piece  of  cake ;  so  Josh  hurried  back  again  to  his  friends 
in  the  cave,  as  happy  as  a  king. 

Then  gloaniing  began  to  fall,  and  the  stars  to  peep 
out  in  the  east.  It  would  be  a  clear  night,  and  towards 
nine  the  moon  would  rise.  The  Bedouins  would  hardly 
dare  to  attack  the  troglodytes  before  then. 

But  as  soon  as  the  stars  began  to  shine,  Poodah, 
accompanied  by  Josh,  had  left  the  cave  and  disappeared 
in  the  wood  beneath. 

The  hill  was  nearly  inaccessible  at  all  parts  save  one. 
This  was  a  kind  of  inclined  plane  that  rose  from  the 
centre  of  the  wood,  and  reached  to  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  cave.  The  ground  was  in  a  great  measure 
composed  of  small,  loose  shingly  stones,  that  were  dis- 
placed by  the  feet,  making  walking  somewhat  difficult. 
Few  bushes  grew  on  this  inclined  plane,  but  the  wood 
was  dense  at  each  side. 

It  was  to  this  particular  place  that  Poodah  now  directed 
his  attention,  and  about  half-way  up  it.  He  had  pro- 
vided himself  with  a  long  stout  rope.  This  was  attached 
to  a  tree  at  one  side,  about  a  foot  from  the  ground,  then 
the  other  end  of  the  rope  was  stretched  right  across  the 


88  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

broad  pathway,  and  given  into  the  willing  hands  of  little 
Josh,  who  was  carefully  instructed  to  lie  perdu,  and  only 
to  pull  the  rope  tight  when  he  should  see  the  attacking 
party  returning  from  the  cave.  Until  then  the  rope  was 
to  be  allowed  to  lie  slack  on  the  ground,  and  Poodah 
himself  walked  across  and  covered  every  portion  of  it 
up  with  shingle,  so  that  it  could  neither  be  seen  in  the 
moonlight  nor  touched  by  the  feet  of  any  one  passing 
up  the  hill.  Having  done  this,  Poodah  went  farther  up 
the  hill  and  hid  himself  among  the  bushes. 

A  whole  hour  passed  by.  In  the  cave  all  by  them- 
selves, Dem  and  Willie  were  beginning  to  feel  the  time 
very  irksome.  The  moon  was  now  shining  bright  and 
clearly  over  the  sea,  making  everything  about  them 
nearly  as  light  as  day;  but  saving  the  occasional  cry 
of  a  night-bird,  no  sound  broke  the  dreary  stillness. 

So  quiet  was  it  that  they  could  hear  the  slightest  stir 
or  movement  among  the  heather  or  gorse,  and  more  than 
once  they  imagined  the  sound  of  footsteps  creeping 
stealthily  towards  the  cave,  which  made  them  grasp  their 
cudgels  and  prepare  to  resist  attack  with  might  and 
main. 

But  the  attack  was  never  made  ! 

Suddenly,  however,  from  the  dark  wood  below  there 
arose  a  yell  so  unearthly,  so  blood-curdling,  as  surely 
was  never  before  heard  in  these  peaceful  wilds.  It  was 
almost  immediately  succeeded  by  a  confused  chorus  of 
frightened  screams,  and  for  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if 
pandemonium  had  been  let  loose  in  the  wood.  Once  or 


The  Attack  on  the  Cave,  and  How  it  Ended.    89 

twice  the  first  fearful  yell  was  repeated,  then  by-and-by 
the  sounds  died  away,  and  all  was  once  more  silent. 

What  had  happened  was  as  follows :  Poodab,  having 
given  little  Josh  his  orders,  and  having  hidden  himself  in 
the  bush,  by  means  of  a  little  phosphorus  had  succeeded 
in  imparting  to  his  face  and  hands  an  appearance  that 
was  truly  demoniacal.  When,  some  time  after,  armed 
with  cudgels  and  stones,  Granite  and  his  party  stole 
silently  up  the  hill  past  the  bush  where  Josh  lay,  and 
approached  the  spot  where  Poodah  was,  the  Indian  had 
simply  popped  out  from  behind  a  tree,  and  with  hands 
aloft  and  glaring  eyes  gave  voice  to  the  yell  which  so 
startled  every  one  who  heard  it. 

"The  spirit !  the  spirit !  "  screamed  the  boys.  Cudgels 
and  stones  wero  instantly  thrown  away.  Nothing  was 
thought  about  except  safety  in  flight.  The  bigger  boys 
knocked  the  smaller  down.  Ah  !  but  the  bigger  boys 
themselves  came  to  tumbling  grief  when  little  Josh 
tightened  the  rope." 

Poodah  had  speedily  crossed  to  the  other  side,  and 
after  giving  vent  to  another  wild  yell,  pulled  the  rope 
clear  and  permitted  the  lads  to  go  once  more  madly 
plunging  down  the  hill. 

The  discomfiture  of  Granite's  party  was  perfect,  their 
demoralisation  complete.  They  never  forgot  that  terrible 
adventure,  and  were  most  careful  ever  after  to  give  the 
wood  a  wide  berth,  even  during  the  day. 

The  hill  and  wood  had  never  borne  a  good  name  j  it 
had  a  worse  now  that  these  naughty  boys  went  and  told 


00  Iii  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

their  story,  with  a  good  many  embellishments  of  their 
own,  all  over  the  country.  So  that  in  future  the  cave 
had  as  little  chance  of  being  molested  as  if  it  had  been 
situated  in  the  wilds  of  central  Africa. 

It  was  a  lovely  warm  summer's  afternoon  j  the  boys, 
Dem  and  Willie,  had  been  away  at  a  distant  burn  fishing. 
They  had  had  extra  good  fortune,  and  sent  little  Josh 
— their  body-servant,  as  they  called  him — back  to  the 
cave  with  a  portion  of  their  capture,  so  that  Poodah 
might  cook  them  for  diuner.  When  therefore  they  them- 
selves arrived  at  last,  there  was  a  most  frngrant  and 
delicious  repast  awaiting  them,  to  which  they  did  ample 
justice,  praising  Poodah  sky-high  for  his  skill  in  the  art 
of  cookery. 

Not  far  from  the  mouth  of  the  cave  there  was  a  broad 
grassy  bank,  on  which  the  fragrant  wild  thyme  of 
Scottish  mountains  bloomed,  and  many  another  sweet 
floweret  and  heath. 

Here,  on  this  particular  afternoon,  Poodah  and  his  two 
pupils  were  seated,  little  Josh  having  gone  on  an  errand 
to  Gowan  Lodge. 

Far  down  below  them,  stretching  away  to  the  limitless 
horizon,  was  the  sea,  as  blue]  as  the  sky  above  it,  save 
where  the  green  shadow  of  some  white  and  fleece -like 
cloudlet  fell.  It  was  dotted  with  many  a  sail,  while  in 
the  more  immediate  foreground  gulls  floated  on  its 
bosom  or  circled  in  the  air  above.  Yonder,  too,  poised 
on  high,  was  the  great  solan  goose  watching  his  chance 
to  speed  downwards,  swift  as  a  thunderbolt,  disappear 


TJie  Attach  on  the  Cave,  and  How  it  Ended.    91 

for  a  few  seconds  beneath  the  water,  and  reappear  with 
a  fish  in  his  bill. 

It  was  a  quiet  and  dreamy  kind  of  afternoon,  and  all 
were  silent. 

Suddenly  they  were  startled  by  a  joyful  shout,  and 
there  was  little  Josh,  the  waif  of  the  wilds,  dashing 
towards  them  waving  aloft  something  white.  Letters 
from  India  ! 

The  two  boys  were  lively  enough  now,  and  so  was 
Poodah  also. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A   CRISIS   IN   HIS   LIFE   HAD   COME. 

How  still  the  morning  of  this  hallowed  day  ! 

Mute  is  the  voice  of  rural  labour,  hushed 

The  ploughboy's  whistle  and  the  milkmaid's  song." 

HE  good  ship  Q,uccn  of  tie  Waves  would 
soon  be  homeward  bound  !  That  was  tlie 
news  which  so  stirred  the  hearts  of  our 
young  heroes;  for  not  only  was  Captain 
Grant,  as  in  duty  bound,  bringing  the  fine  old  East 
Indiatnan  home,  but  Dem's  father  was  coming  with  him. 
What  castles  in  the  air  those  two  boys  now  built,  of 
the  happy  time  to  come ;  for  if  all  went  well  their  fathers 
would  be  home  by  Christmas  !  A  voyage  that  would  be 
done  now-a-days  in  a  month,  took  three  to  four  in  those 
times. 

What  would  they  do  ?  and  what  would  they  be  ? 
These  were  the  questions  that  now  chiefly  exercised 
their  minds. 

They  were  never  tired  discussing  the  subject  by  day 
in  their  cave,  nor  at  night  till  late  in  their  bedroom. 

92 


A  Crisis  in  1iis  Life  had  Come.  93 

"  I'll  be  so  sorry  to  part  with  you,  Dem/'  said  Willie 
more  than  once ;  "  but  I'm  going  to  be  a  sailor,  and 
nothing  else.  Father  has  promised  to  take  me  to 
sea/' 

"And  I  dare  say,"  Dam  would  reply,  "I  shall  have  to 
be  a  soldier,  though  I  should  like  far  better  to  be  a 
sailor,  like  you." 

"Yes,  we  could,  perhaps,  be  often  together  then." 

"  But  anyhow,  we  will  manage  to  see  each  other  some- 
times, won't  we  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Dem  after  a  pause,  "  I'm  sure 
I  shall  cry  my  eyes  out  when  we  have  to  part." 

"Well,"  Willie  said,  "I  suppose  I  shall  feel  like 
crying  too,  but  I  won't.  It  isn't  like  a  Scotch  boy  to 
cry,  and  it  isn't  manly;  but  I'll  be  so  sorry,  and  I  won't 
love  yon  any  the  less." 

"No,  I'm  sure  you  won't." 

"  Ilaven't  we  been  happy  ?  " 

"  Oh;  so  jolly  and  happy  !  " 

"And  there  are  months  and  months  before  us  yet." 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  consolation.  What  a  pity  it  is  that 
people  ever  get  old  !  " 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Though  I  think  I  want  to  be  a  man 
all  the  same." 

"  Well,  and  so  do  I." 

Ah !  dear  young  readers,  there  is  many  a  slip  'twixt 
the  cup  and  the  lip ;  and  whatever  castles  we  may  choose 
to  build  in  the  air,  the  very  wisest  amongst  us  have  but 


94  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old: 

little  i£  any  notion  of  what  may  be  in  store  for  us  in  the 
future. 

Summer  wore  away  at  last.  The  golden  harvest  was 
gathered  in  from  the  glens,  and  the  thatchers  began  to 
be  busy  in  the  corn-yards.  Then  Willie  and  Dem  went 
back  to  school,  aud  recommenced  their  studies,  so  the 
time  flew  faster  than  before. 

They  still  made  their  pretty  mountain  cave  the  place 
of  re-union,  however,  where,  in  company  with  little  Josh, 
they  would  listen  entranced  for  hours  to  the  stones  that 
Poodah  had  to  tell. 

Sometimes  they  would  all  meet  to  hear  the  strange 
Indian's  tales  in  Miss  McBride's  parlour,  and  old  Tibbie 
would  also  be  invited  to  enter.  She  was  still  a  little 
afraid  of  the  heathen,  as  she  called  Poodah,  but  his  stories 
she  confessed  quite  bewitched  her. 

Often  and  often  in  after  life,  while  embarked  on  his 
stormy  career,  did  Willie  Grant  look  back  with  joy  to 
those  happy  little  fireside  meetings  in  Gowan  Lodge,  and 
in  memory  see  once  more  Tibbie's  half-scared  face,  Dem 
all  eyes  and  ears  seated  on  a  low  chair,  pleasant  Miss 
McBride  with  her  knitting  in  a  corner,  the  cosy  cats  on 
the  rug  beside  the  blazing  fire  of  peats  and  wood,  and 
the  big  ha'  Bible,  \vith  the  old  lady's  spectacles  on  it, 
ready  to  read  as  soon  as  the  ancient  groaning  clock  on 
the  stairs  rattled  out  the  hour  of  ten. 

The  snow  began  to  fall  early  in  November,  and  in  the 
woods  and  forests  wild  storms  went  tearing  and  roaring 
through  the  bnrc  and  leafless  bonghs. 


A  Crisis  in  Ms  Life  had  Come.  95 


November  wore  away.  December  came  on,  with,  hard 
frosts  and  bright  clear  skies  and  sunshine ;  and  so  came 
Christmas  itself  at  last,  and  then  Auld  Yule,  which  in 
this  country  was  held  as  the  festival  of  the  year. 

But,  woe  is  me  !  the  Queen  of  the  Waves  has -not  yet 
made  her  number. 

Where  could  she  be  ?  Both  boys  grew  sadly  uneasy 
as  the  days  went  on  and  on,  and  January  itself  became  a 
month  of  the  past. 

There  still  was  hope.  The  good  ship  might  have 
broken  down,  or  been  delayed  in  many  ways. 

Then,  towards  the  end  of  February,  when  grief  had 
quite  got  hold  of  both  poor  lads,  a  letter  came  to  Miss 
McBride. 

The  boys  went  to  her  room  and  found  her  in  tears. 

"  Oh  !  how  shall  I  tell  you  !  "  she  cried,  wringing  her 
hands. 

Willie  was  very  pale. 

Dem  was  crying. 

"  Give  me  the  letter,"  said  the  former. 

Miss  McBride  did  so. 

"  No  longer/'  said  the  official  document,  "  could  the 
slightest  hope  be  entertained  of  the  safety  of  either  the 
Queen  of  the  Waves  or  her  crew,  portions  of  her  boats 
and  bulwarks,  her  figure-head,  and  stern  post  name-board 
having  floated  on  shore  near  Symon'd  Bay,  Cape  of  Good 
Hope." 

Could  sadder  news  be  given  to  any  boys  ?  The 
ship  a  wreck,  both  their  fathers  gone  ! 


96  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old 

The  letter  dropped  on  the  carpet.  Willie  Grant  stood 
for  fully  a  minute  with  his  eyes  turned  upwards,  his  head 
erect,  and  his  lower  lip  firmly  pressed  between  his  teeth, 
to  stifle  his  sobs,  to  restrain  his  tears.  But  the  con- 
vulsive heaving  of  his  chest  told  how  deeply  he  was 
affected. 

Dem  had  thrown  himself  on  a  couch,  and  burying  his 
face  in  a  pillow,  given  way  to  his  grief. 

Miss  McBride  waited  till  both  were  somewhat  calmer  ; 
then  she  arose  and  went  and  knelt  beside  the  couch,  and 
Willie  knelt  near  her. 

"  Let  us  pray,  boys,"  she  said. 

What  else  could  she  do  ? 

What  better  could  she  do  ? 

Well,  reader,  there  is  one  abiding  blessing  in  this  dark 
world  of  ours.  How  dark  soe'er  it  be,  how  deep  soever 
be  our  grief,  there  is  always  consolation  at  His  foot- 
stool for  all  who  seek  it  there. 

****** 

Willie  Grant  had  not  made  much  of  a  show  of  his  grief 
at  first,  but  it  was  none  the  less  deep  and  lasting.  He 
could  hardly  appreciate  the  extent  of  his  loss  when  the 
blow  first  fell,  and  it  was  only  after  some  weeks  that  he 
felt  the  leaden  bullet  of  sorrow  weighing  so  heavily  at 
his  heart. 

Dem  used  to  be  lively  and  even  cheerful  at  one  time, 
but  down  to  zero  the  next;  throwing  himself  suddenly 
on  the  couch  or  on  the  grass,  and  sobbing  till  his  heart 
was  like  to  break. 


"I  expect  somebody's  going  to  catch  it.     . 
nearer  and  hear  what  they  say." 


.     .     I'll  creep  a  little 
[Pag*  83. 


A  Crisis  in  his  Life  had  Come.  97 

Miss  McBride  and  old  Tibbie  did  all  they  could  to 
cheer  the  lads  in  a  quiet  and  almost  motherly  way,  but 
for  a  long  time  without  much  success.  At  last,  however, 
and  as  the  spring  wore  away  and  summer  returned  with 
sunshine,  birds,  and  flowers,  both  boys  grew  calmer, 
happier ;  a  chastened  kind  of  happiness  though. 

"  Willie/'  said  Dem  one  day,  when  both  were  lying  on 
the  gowany  lawn  in  front  of  the  cottage,  "  Willie,  of 
course  both  your  father  and  mine  are  in  the  good 
place  ?  " 

"  Of  course  they  are,  Dem." 

"  Well,  do  you  know  I  have  constantly  the  idea  that 
they  can  see  us,  and  that  they  will  guard  us  through 
life." 

"  So  have  I,"  replied  Willie,  "  precisely  the  same 
feeling." 

The  ice  was  broken  now,  and  instead  of  remaining 
silent,  these  two  poor  lads  used  to  delight  to  be  always 
talking  about  their  fathers,  and  soon  they  came  to  look 
upon  them  as  not  really  dead,  but  rather  ever  present 
though  invisible. 

Thus  matters  stood  till  midsummer  came;  they  had 
gone  no  more  back  to  school,  and  they  had  not  visited 
their  cave  lately,  although  Poodah  was  very  often  there 
alone. 

One  day,  somewhat  to  their  surprise,  two  boys  visited 
the  cottage  and  inquired  for  them. 

They  were  Granite  and  Foumart. 


98  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


Willie  and  Dem  went  to  the  door  to  see  them. 

"  Ahem ! "  begun  Granite,  f '  I— I— that  is— Foumart 

and  me Come  and  sit  on  the  grass ;  I  hato  being 

indoors,  and  so  does  Foumart." 

They  all  went  and  sat  on  the  grass. 

"I  say,"  continued  Granite,  "you'll  think  it  funny  of 
Foumart  and  me  coming  to  see  you.  It  was  Foumart's 
fault." 

"  No,  Granite,  you  proposed  it." 

"  No,  you,  Foumart,  you." 

"Never  mind,"  said  Willie,  " we're  glad  to  see 
you." 

"  We  haven't  come  to  ask  you  to  fight,"  said  Granite, 
"  or  anything  of  that  kind,  though  many  a  fine  '  stashie  ' 
we've  had,  haven't  we  ?  " 

Granite's  eyes  dilated  with  joy  when  he  thought  of 
it. 

"  But,"  he  added,  "  that's  all  past,  and  we  want  to  be 
friends,  Foumart  and  me.  'Cause  we've  heard  you've 
lost  your  fathers.  Not  that  Foumart  and  rne  would 
think  that  much.  My  father  is  a  miller,  and  mother 
would  never  let  him  take  me  on  his  knee  'cause  of  his 
spoiling  my  clothes,  and  Foumart  never  had  a  father. 
Come,  I  say,  Willie  Grant,  here's  my  Jock-the-leg  knife, 
I  want  you  to  keep  it." 

"  And  here,"  said  Foumart  to  Dem,  "  is  a  New  Testa- 
ment. Keep  it.  It  isn't  a  morsel  of  use  to  me." 

So  those  queer  boys  made  friends,  in  their  own  queer 


A  Crisis  in  his  Life  had  Come.  99 

fashion,  with  Willie  and  Dem,  and  there  was  an  end  to 
all  former  feuds  between  them. 

By-and-by  Miss  McBride  came  out  and  asked  them 
all  in,  but  Granite  and  Foumart  refused  to  budge.  So 
Tibbie  brought  out  tea  and  cake  and  gooseberry  jam 
to  the  lawn,  and  Miss  McBride  presided  on  the  grass. 
Then  Josh  the  waif  dropped  round,  so  it  was  quite  a 
social  party. 


"  You  must  go  and  see  my  cousin,  boys,"  said  Miss 
McBride  one  day  to  Willie,  "  and  thank  him  for  giving 
you  the  cave  rent-free." 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  Willie  said,  "  we  ought  to  have  gone 
long  ago ;  but " 

"  Ah  !  I  know, — well,  go  to  day,  boys." 

So  that  very  day  off  they  set  to  see  the  old  invalid, 
who  with  all  his  wealth  never  had  a  single  day's  happi- 
ness. 

He  was  kindly  and  good  to  all  around  him,  however, 
and  bore  his  great  affliction  with  true  Christian  boldness 
and  courage. 

He  was  delighted  to  see  the  boys.  He  talked  first 
about  their  fathers,  then  gradually  he  brightened  up,  and 
brightened  the  boys  up  as  well. 

He  told  them  stories  of  his  sporting  days  and  his  fish- 
ing exploits,  and  described  them  in  such  a  telling,  natural 


100  In  the  Dashing  Days'  of  Old. 

way,  that  the  boys  were  both  delighted,  and  the  time  flew 
swiftly  by. 

He  made  them  promise  to  come  again  soon.  They  did 
promise,  and  did  come  too,  and  by-and-by  it  became  a 
regular  thing  for  them  to  be  at  Harthill  every  second 
evening. 

"  You  really  make  me  feel  young  again,  lads."  Old 
Mr.  McBride  said  this  to  them  over  and  over  again. 

But  it  was  in  Willie  that  he  took  special  interest. 

Now,  however  pleasant  such  a  life  might  be,  it  could 
not  last  for  ever.  Willie  felt  this,  and  he  felt  something 
else  :  he  felt  that  he  was  poor  and  friendless.  Dem  had 
an  uncle  in  England,  who  by-and-by  might  come  and 
fetch  him,  but  Willie  had  not  a  relation  in  the  world. 

He  determined  to  leave  Gowan  Lodge,  and  go  away 
to  sea  as  a  boy  before  the  mast. 

In  his  bedroom  one  night  he  told  Dem  of  his  inten- 
tions, and  Dem  quite  approved  of  them. 

But  when  he  told  Miss  McBride  next  day  of  his  de- 
termination, the  poor  old  lady  was  inconsolable. 

No,  no,  he  must  not  go.  She  would  keep  him  and 
school  him,  and  send  him  to  college,  and  make  a  parson 
of  him.  No,  no,  no,  he  must  not  go  ! 

But  Willie  was  proud  and  independent  in  spirit. 

"I'll  be  nothing  but  a  sailor,"  he  said,  almost  doggedly, 
"  though  I'll  never,  never  forget  your  kindness,  and  I'll 
always  make  this  my  home  when  I  come  back  from  a 
voyage." 


A  Crisis  in  his  Life  had  Come.          101 

Miss  McBride  did  not  very  often  leave  her  cottage. 
She  paid  periodical  visits  to  Harthill ;  visits  of  ceremony 
they  were,  for  there  was  not  a  great  deal  of  affection 
or  even  of  friendship  between  the  cousins.  But  a  few 
days  after  the  above  conversation  with  Willie,  Squire 
McBride  was  surprised  to  see  the  old  lady  walk  into  his 
drawing-room, — a  fine  room,  with  an  outlook  over  the 
Atlantic. 

"What,  you  here,  Mary!"  he  said.  "Well,  I'm 
glad  to  see  you,  though  it  isn't  your  time.  James, 
tea  at  once.  You  look  cold,  Mary.  Nothing  wrong,  I 
hope  ?  " 

"  No,  Cousin  Robert,  nothing  wrong;  all  will  be  right 
if  I  can  manage  you." 

The  old  man  laughed. 

"  Manage  riie,  Mary  !  Why,  you  always  managed  me. 
You'd  have  managed  me  still  better  if  you  had  only  mar- 
ried me,  Mary  !  " 

"You  know,  Robert,  I  don't  believe  in  cousinly  mar- 
riages, so  there  !  " 

"Well,  Mary?" 

"  Yes,  Robert." 

"  What  did  you  come  about,  a  sitting  of  eggs  ?  " 

"  No,  you  silly  old  boy,  not  a  sitting  of  eggs  this  time. 
I  want  a  sitting  of  another  sort.  My  poor  boy,  Willie 
Grant " 

"Yes  ;  he  is  a  charming  chap.     I  like  him." 

"  Well,  he  is  determined,  like  his  father,  poor  dear  dead 


102  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

man,  to  go  before  the  mast.  I  want  you  to  get  him  into 
the  Royal  Navy  as  a  midshipman.  That's  the  sitting  of 
eggs  I  want." 

"  Oh !  that's  the  sitting  of  eggs,  is  it  ?  Come  away, 
James.  Hand  Miss  McBride  a  cup,  and  me  another. 
Thanks.  So,  Mary,  that's  your  sitting  of  eggs.  Well, 
I'll  do  my  best." 

"  Oh !  thank  you,  Robert,  thank  you  !  You  always  were 
a  dear,  good,  kind  soul." 

After  this  the  old  good-hearted  couple  had  a  long  and 
earnest  conversation,  and  it  was  agreed  that  Willie  Grant 
should  know  nothing  about  it  till  his  appointment  came ; 
that  is  if  it  could  be  got. 

And  it  ivas  got.  They  were  stirring  times  these ;  the 
French  were  trying  hard  to  sweep  the  English  from  the 
seas,  and  the  English  were  not  only  trying  to  blow  the 
French  out  of  the  water,  but  actually  doing  it. 

Squire  McBride  set  about  keeping  his  promise  to  his 
cousin  without  delay;  and  with  so  much  success,  that 
after  the  expenditure  of  much  paper  and  ink  and  postage 
money,  Willie's  appointment  arrived  at  Gowan  Lodge 
one  snowy  January  morning.  On  a  Sunday  too !  He 
was  to  be  midshipman  on  the  frigate  Castile,  then 
fitting  out  at  Spithead  for  foreign  service. 

Willie's  feelings  on  this  occasion  were  so  conflicting,  so 
commingled  with  sorrow  and  excitement  and  joy,  that  if 
he  had  been  asked,  he  really  could  not  have  said  whether 
he  was  happy  or  the  reverse. 


A  Crisis  in  his  Life  had  Gome.          103 

He  thanked  Miss  McBride  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and 
than  he  went  straight  away — all  alone — over  to  the 
Squire's  hall,  to  thank  him.  And  having  done  so,  he 
took  his  way  back  again  over  the  moorland  and  through 
the  forest. 

Nor  had  he  forgotten  to  thank  Him,  also,  in  whose 
hands  our  lives  and  fates  all  are,  nor  to  pray  for  His 
guidance,  to  make  things  work  together  for  his  good, 
and  to  help  him  to  do  his  duty. 

Willie  never  forgot  that  Sabbath  morning.  There  was 
something  impressive  in  its  wintry  stillness.  Every 
sound  seemed  muffled,  deadened,  deafened.  It  was  as 
if  all  nature  held  her  breath.  Even  the  sea-mews  went 
circling  round  in  the  leaden  sky,  without  uttering  a 
sound  except  the  fanlike  rush  of  their  wings  when  they 
wheeled  and  tacked.  The  sky  was  grey  and  like  the 
ocean,  which  far  away  in  the  west  met  and  blended, 
without  a  line  to  mark  a  horizon. 

Only  a  lisping  kind  of  whisper  along  the  beach,  where 
the  lazy  wavelets  curled  and  fell. 

And  in  the  woods  the  silence  was  even  more  marked. 
The  trees  stood  waiting  as  it  were ;  never  a  twiglet 
moved ;  there  was  not  a  leaf  to  fall  nor  a  fern  found  to 
to  rustle,  for  the  ferns  had  been  beaten  to  the  earth  with 
the  last  snow,  and  now  lay  flat  and  frozen  to  the  ground. 
All  creeping  things  were  dead,  or  deep  buried  below  and 
fast  asleep.  Only,  every  now  and  then,  there  was  the 
peevish  twittering  of  a  flock  of  starlings,  circling  round 


10-t  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

in  the  still  air,  or  the  quick  "Bee't !  bee't !  bee't !  "  of  a 
startled  blackbird,  and  anon  a  little  half  hysterical  lilt  of 
a  song  from  a  robin,  as  if  the  wee  bird  thought  that  by 
singing  he  could  conjure  away  the  winter's  frost,  and 
that  spring  would  return,  with  leaf  and  bud  for  the  trees, 
and  flowers — the  anemone,  the  fragile  wood-sorrel  and 
scented  primrose — for  the  grassy  banks. 

Willie    Grant     went    slowly    homewards,     thinking, 
thinking. 

A  crisis  in  his  life  had  come! 


EXl)   OF   BOOK   FIRST. 


CHAPTER  I. 


JOINING   THE    SERVICE. 

EOCKED  iii  the  cradle  of  the  deep, 
I  lay  me  down  in  peace  to  sleep  ; 
Secure  I  rest  upon  the  wave, 
For  Thou,  0  Lord  !  hast  power  to  save. 
I  know  Thou  wilt  not  slight  my  call, 
For  Thou  dost  mark  the  sparrow's  fall ; 
Then,  calm  and  peaceful  shall  I  sleep, 
Booked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep." 

ARLY  in  the  spring  of  1807,  a  small  coast- 
ing vessel  had  been  seen  by  those  on  shore 
struggling  all  the  afternoon  against  a 
strong  breeze,  in  a  seemingly  vain  attempt 
to  round  the  stormy  Mull  o'  Cantyre.  You  may  call  her 
what  you  please,  smack  or  yawl.  She  had  one  tall  mast 
which  would  have  accommodated  a  good  spread  of  canvas, 
had  the  weather  permitted  any  such  display,  and  a  tiny 
morsel  of  a  standing  stick  right  aft  for  a  sail  not  much 
bigger  than  a  meal  sack.  Her  size — perhaps  twenty 
tons.  She  carried  plenty  of  bowsprit  and  jibboom,  which 
proved  her  to  be  saucy  enough,  and  willing  to  sail  into 
the  wind's  teeth  if  there  was  the  ghost  of  a  chance.  To- 


108  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


day  her  big  mainsail  was  closed  reefed,  and  she  carried  a 
hurricane  jib. 

Two  Highlanders  had  been  standing  on  a  rock  for 
ever  so  long  looking  at  her,  while  they  smoked  their 
black  clays  and  took  an  occasional  pinch  of  snuff  from 
a  ram's  horn  that  one  of  them  owned. 

"  They'll  no  pe  doing  it,  Tonal,  man,"  said  one. 

"  It's  myself,"  replied  Donald,  "  that  thinks  with  you, 
Archie;  and  look  see,  the  sun'll  pe  setting  pefore  long, 
and  the  wind  gettin5  higher.  So  sure  enough,  if  they  get 
round,  it's  on  the  rocks  they'll  pe  afore  mornin',  as  sure 
as  your  name  is  Archie  Campbell." 

"  Och  !  yes,  it's  right  you  are,  Tonal,  to  pe  surely,  and 
it's  deep  in  the  water  she  is  too;  and  if  the  folks  on  board 
— poor  dears — are  all  trownded,  then  the  bits  o'  barrelies 
o'  herrings  and  potatoes  will  pe  yours  and  mines,  Tonal." 

"  Yes,  to  pe  surely." 

Hope,  however,  told  those  two  honest  countrymen  of 
mine  a  too  flattering  tale.  Let  us  take  a  peep  on  board. 

The  crew  are  all  on  deck,  for  she  is  not  an  open  boat, 
and  there  is  a  cabin,  too,  and  skylight,  and  a  chimney 
fore  and  aft. 

The  crew  all  told  consists  of  the  captain,  a  man,  and  a 
boy.  There  is  besides  a  passenger,  and  he  is  not  above 
taking  a  pull  at  a  sheet,  or  even  helping  to  take  in  a 
reef  when  need  is. 

The  name  of  the  little  vessel  is  the  Flora  McDonald  ; 
her  master  is  Saunders,  the  fisherman  recluse ;  and  the 
passenger  our  hero,  Willie  Grant. 


Joining  the  Service.  109 

Saunders  had  returned  to  the  glen,  and  Squire 
McBride  had  chartered  the  Flora,  and  put  him  in  charge 
to  take  Willie  round  from  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  to 
join  his  ship  at  Spithead.  She  was  deep  in  the  water. 
Her  ballast  itself  was  stones  and  water,  and  in  the  latter 
floated  or  sulked  a  splendid  assortment  of  live  lobsters. 
Her  other  cargo  consisted  of  barrelled  herrings,  potatoes, 
and  Willie's  sea-chest. 

A  strange  way  of  going  to  join  the  service,  it  must  be 
admitted.  But  there  were  no  trains  in  those  days,  and 
far  away  in  the  Highland  wilds  no  coaches  either. 

The  boy  was  little  Josh  McGregor,  who  had  evinced  an 
inclination,  and  a  very  determined  one  it  was,  to  be  a 
sailor  and  follow,  if  possible,  Willie's  fortunes.  In  fact, 
the  lad  loved  Willie  Grant,  even  as  a  collie  dog  loves  his 
master;  I  can  compare  his  affection  for  him  to  nothing 
else. 

Both  Willie  and  Josh  were  excellent  sailors,  so  sea- 
sickness was  out  of  the  question  entirely. 

"  Do  you  think/'  said  Willie,  "  we  can  do  it  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  feel  sure  we  can't;  and  so,  with  your  per- 
mission, we'll  put  about  and  run  round  the  north  coast 
of  Ireland.  We  will  have  sea-room  there,  anyhow/' 

"  All  right,"  said  Willie.  "  We  have  been  three  days 
at  sea  already ;  perhaps  we  may  yet  get  a  fair  wind,  by- 
and-by." 

Round  she  came  in  lovely  form ;  and  on  shore,  Donald 
and  Archie  went  away  disappointed  as  the  vessel  began 
to  show  her  heels. 


110  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  There'll  pe  no  barrelies  o'  herrings  then,  Tonal,"  said 
Archie. 

"  Och,  no  !  "  replied  Tonal ;  "  but  we'll  jusb  pe  putting 
our  trust  in  providence  for  another  time.  Take  a  snuff, 
Archie." 

The  Flora  flew  now.  There  is  no  other  verb  to  describe 
the  fleetness  of  her  motion  as  she  cut  through  the  water 
before  the  wind.  Compared  with  the  height  of  the  vessel 
and  her  size,  the  waves  were  really  mountains.  She 
sunk  in  the  troughs  so  far  that  the  wind  was  almost 
taken  out  of  her  sails,  and  when  she  mounted  a  billow 
she  appeared  to  cleave  the  top  of  it  in  two ;  the  white 
foaming  water  went  rolling  aft  half-leg  deep,  but  she 
shook  herself  clean  and  clear  the  very  moment  after. 

There  was  a  gorgeous  sunset  to  night.  The  sun  sunk 
over  the  Irish  hills  amid  a  blaze  of  golden  glory.  By- 
and-by  the  wind  went  down  so  far  that  reefs  were 
shaken  out,  and  a  "  fore-soldier  "  set. 

Willie  and  Saunders  went  below  and  squeezed  them- 
selves into  seats,  for  the  cabin  was  wondrous  small. 
Josh  came  staggering  aft,  and  handed  down  a  great  dish 
of  Irish  stew.  Then  Saunders  dived  his  arm  into  a 
locker  and  produced  a  further  contribution,  and  the  two 
made  an  excellent  supper,  and  sat  talking  for  hours. 

Only  once  that  evening  Willie  mentioned  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  diamond  star  of  Carrickareen. 

"It  isn't  always  visible,"  was  all  the  fisherman  re- 
marked, and  this  subject  dropped. 

By-and-by  Willie  began  to  wink,  then  Saunders  took 


Joining  the  Service.  Ill 

out  the  Book,  and  after  our  good  old  Highland  custom 
read  a  chapter  and  said  a  prayer,  and  then 

"  I'll  turn  in,"  said  Willie ;  "  and  won't  I  sleep,  just !  " 

He  had  not  far  to  go  to  bed,  and  in  half  an  hour  both 
he  and  Saunders  were  in  that  deep,  delightful  slumber 
which  only  sailors  know,  and  that  only  when  the  wind 
blows  and  the  vessel  rocks. 

For  nearly  two  weeks  longer  the  little  Flora  struggled 
against  heavy  seas  and  high  winds,  and  then  at  length 
she  bore  away  up  Channel,  and  in  good  time  passed  the 
Needles,  and  arrived  at  Spithead,  and  so  into  Portsmouth 
harbour. 

Saunders  knew  the  frigate  which  Willie  was  going  to 
join.  As  they  neared  her,  Willie  came  on  deck  rigged 
out  in  his  new  uniform,  tailcoat  and  all  complete. 

Tom  Thumwood  was  signalman  of  the  Castile.  He  was 
called  Tom  Thumb  for  short,  and  perhaps  he  was  the 
original  Tom  Thumb.  But  Tom  was  not  short,  by  any 
means,  but  quite  the  reverse,  and  a  deal  of  chaffing  he 
had  to  endure  from  his  messmates  owing  to  his  extreme 
length. 

Tom  was  so  long,  indeed,  that  you  had,  when  talking  to 
him,  to  stand  off  a  yard  or  two  in  order  to  get  your 
proper  bearings,  else  you  might  have  hurt  your  neck 
looking  up  to  his  face.  He  had  been  on  board  a  brig 
before  he  came  to  the  Castile,  but  was  mercifully  per- 
mitted to  leave,  being  nearly  always  off  duty  with  a 
broken  head,  owing  to  the  swinging  round  of  the  trysail 
boom ;  and  as  for  caps,  why  Tom  had  to  get  a  new  one 


112  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

about  once  a  week,  for  the  wind  blew  them  off— his 
head  being  so  far  aloft— and  every  stay  and  sheet  in  the 
ship  had  a  shy  at  Tom's  cap.  But  Tom  was  useful  in 
other  ways  as  well  as  in  signalling  duties,  at  which  latter, 
by  the  way,  he  couldn't  be  beaten,  for  when  the  young 
officers  went  off  on  a  boat  excursion,  they  always  took 
Tom  if  they  could  get  him,  and  made  him  stand  up  for  a 
mast,  holding  aloft  a  reefing  jacket  or  a  Highland  plaid. 

Tom  liked  his  "tot  o'  rum,"  as  he  called  it — most 
sailors  did  in  those  days,  before  the  blessings  of  tem- 
perance came  to  be  appreciated — but  he  very  seldom 
exceeded. 

Once  upon  a  time,  though,  Tom  did  get  over  the  bounds 
of  prudence.  He  had  been  seeing  some  soldiers  off  from 
Portsmouth;  three  friends  of  his  own  they  were.  He 
conveyed  them  as  far  as  the  fifth  milestone ;  they  then 
drank  their  rum  and  broke  the  bottle  on  the  stone.  But 
Tom  felt  rather  overcome  going  back,  and  lay  down  to 
sleep.  In  the  starlight  a  good  Samaritan  came  along; 
he  did  not  know  Tom,  but  he  helped  him  up  to  his  feet, 
as  he  thought,  but  Tom  was  really  on  his  knees,  though 
quite  as  tall  even  thus  as  the  good  Samaritan. 

"  Now,"  said  the  latter,  "  take  my  arm ;  can  you  walk  ?  " 

«  Walk  ?  "  said  Tom.  «  Yes,  my  friend,  but  I'm  not 
all  up  yet,  there's  another  fold  of  me!" 

But  Tom  was  very  good-natured  and  a  general 
favourite,  especially  with  the  boys. 

When  they  wanted  to  ask  a  question  of  him,  they 
would  shout,  "  Are  you  up  there,  Tom — ahoy  1 " 


Joining  the  Service.  113 

"  Ay,  ay,  lad,"  Tom  would  reply,  then  bend  himself 
down  to  almost  a  sitting  position,  with  his  hands  on  his 
knees,  so  that  his  face  would  be  on  a  level  with  the  boy's. 
"  What  is  it,  lad  ?  " 

And  often  the  only  question  the  cheeky  boy  would 
have  to  ask  would  be, — 

"  What  sort  o'  weather  is  it  up  with  you,  Tom  ?  " 

"  I'll  show  you/'  Tom  would  reply,  and  hoist  the  lad 
right  on  top  of  his  shoulders — cockerty-coosie  fashion — 
and  trot  off  with  him  round  the  deck. 

It  was  a  treat  to  see  Tom  coming  down  the  companion 
ladder,  if  you  happened  to  be  below.  There  seemed  no 
end  to  him,  but  when  Tom's  face  did  appear  at  last,  a 
right  jolly-looking  and  pleasant  face  it  was,  only  slightly 
disfigured  as  to  one  cheek  by  the  quid  of  tobacco,  which 
he  was  never  without  except  at  mealtimes.  Roddy  Flint, 
a  carpenter's  mate  and  a  character,  declared  that  if  Tom 
were  dressed  up  in  pig-skins,  with  a  horse's  mane  along 
his  neck,  and  pitched  overboard,  he  would  pass  for  "  the 
great  sea-sarpint,  and  froighten  the  shark  himself." 

Yes,  Tom  was  something  like  a  signalman.  It  was  he 
who  in  duty  bound  noticed  the  Flora  first. 

It  was  just  after  the  sunset  gun  had  been  fired,  and 
Tom  was  abaft  the  binacle,  having  a  quiz  round  through 
the  medium  of  a  battered  old  telescope,  which  Tom  was 
proud  to  call  his  own. 

"  Smash  my  buttons,  Jack/'  he  said  to  a  bos'n's  mate, 
"if  there  isn't  a  rotten  old  smack  going  to  run  right 
into  us." 

H 


114  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  Never  mind,  Tom,  we  won't  hurt.  May  I  be  skivered, 
though,  if  she  ain't  coming  alongside.  Down  goes  the 
mainsail.  That  youngster  in  uniform  handles  the  tiller 
well  too." 

The  smack  was  laid  alongside  "  lovely,"  as  a  girl  would 
say,  and  next  minute  Willie  Grant  was  on  deck. 

He  lifted  his  hat  to  the  king's  ship,  then  stood  for  a 
moment  uncertain  what  to  do  next. 

The  bos'n's  mate  gave  his  trousers  a  hitch  and  swung 
easily  up  to  Willie. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  sir  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Willie  boldly,  for  the  boy  had  expected 
io  see  some  officers  on  deck,  "  well,  I've  come  to  join  the 
ship." 

"Yes,  I  heard  say  a  youngster  from  the  north  was 
expected.  But  there  ain't  an  officer  on  board,  bar  a 
master's  mate,  and  he's  below  in  the  gunroom.  Got 
your  chest,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it's  in  the  smack  alongside." 

"All  right;  I'll  have  it  aboard  afore  you  can  say 
'  sword,'  sir.  You'd  better  go  below  and  see  Mr.  Smart, 
and  just  tell  him  you've  come  to  join.  Stay,  though, 
I  forgot,  you'd  hardly  find  your  way.  I'll  go  with  you. 
Come  along.  Mind  your  feet.  All  is  confusion,  and 
will  be  for  weeks.  Nobody  hardly  joined  yet." 

It  was  confusion  indeed.  Lumber  of  all  sorts  lay  on  the 
fighting  deck,  mixed  with  blocks  of  wood,  chips,  saw- 
dust, buckets,  ropes,  stoves — everything;  and  the  guns 
were  anyhow. 


Joining  the  Service.  115 

"All !  Mr.  Smart's  in  the  wardroom.  He  wouldn't  be 
there  if  any  superior  was  aboard.  Go  in,  sir." 

Willie  walked  in. 

In  an  easy  chair,  with  his  legs  on  the  table — his  feet  in 
stockings  only, — sat  Mr.  Smart,  with  a  wet  towel  round 
his  brow  and  a  book  in  his  hands. 

A  tall,  long-faced,  pale  young  man,  with  thoroughly 
Saxon  hair  and  eyes. 

Smart  took  no  notice. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  I've  come  to  join." 

"  Go  to  the  mischief." 

"  Thank  you  !  " 

"  Get  out  of  this.  Can't  you  see  I'm  studying  my 
wretched  logarithms  ?  Get  out,  I  tell  you." 

Smart  leant  down,  and  next  moment  a  boot  went  whiz- 
zing past  Willie's  nose,  and  struck  the  bulkhead  behind 
him. 

The  second  boot  followed  the  first.  This  Willie  dodged. 
Then  he  stood  erect,  and  as  he  did  so  he  kicked  off  his 
shoes  ;  the  lad's  Highland  blood  was  up,  though  he  was 
cool  enough. 

He  looked  at  Smart  for  a  moment,  then  said  slowly, — 

"  I  ne'er  delayed, 
When  foeman  bade  me  draw  my  blade." 

Whizz  through  the  air  went  a  brogan.*     The  book  was 
knocked  from  Smart's  fingers. 

*  Brogan  =  a  Highland  shoe. 


116  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Whizz  went  the  other,  and  ricochetted  from  the  enemy's 
Bhoulder. 

"  Great  stars ! "  shouted  Smart,  kicking  away  his  chair 
and  tearing  the  towel  from  his  brow.  "  Great  stars ! 
You  have  struck  your  superior  officer.  That  is  death,  by 
the  king's  instructions." 

"  I'm  midshipman  William  Grant,  and  I've  come  to 
join  the  Castile/'  said  Willie  calmly. 

"  Great  stars !  for  two  pins  I'd  pound  you  into  a 
mummy.  You're  a  Scotchman,  ain't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Willie ;  "  and  you're  an  Englishman. 
That's  your  misfortune,  not  your  fault;  and  I  promise 
you  I  shaVt  boast  of  my  birth  if  you  say  you  are  not 
ashamed  of  yours." 

Smart  looked  at  him  for  a  minute,  then  laughed  aloud, 
as  he  pitched  away  his  book. 

"  Come  on,  Scottie,"  he  cried,  "  and  sit  down.  I'm 
precious  pleased  you've  arrived.  Bother  the  logarithms ! 
Let  us  be  friends." 

And  if  any  one  had  looked  into  the  wardroom  ten 
minutes  after  this,  he  would  have  thought  that  Willie 
Grant  and  Edgar  Smart  had  known  each  other  since 
childhood. 

The  Oastile  was  a  thirty-six  gun  frigate,  and  was  now 
fitting  out  with  all  the  despatch  possible  for  immediate 
service;— but  where,  no  one  beyond  the  sacred  precincts 
of  the  Admiralty  offices  knew  as  yet.  Both  the  first  and 
second  lieutenants  came  off  next  day,  Edgar  and  Willie 
having  bunked  all  night  on  the  wardroom  floor. 


Joining  the  Service.  117 

The  first  lieutenant  was  a  burly,  fair-haired  oSicer  cf 
some  five-and-thirty  years  of  age,  and  would  have  looked 
very  nice  and  pleasant  if  he  had  not  unfortunately 
possessed  a  squint.  However,  he  always  put  two  fingers 
on  the  squinting  eye  when  talking  to  you.  This  did  not 
look  odd  when  you  knew  the  reason  connected  with  it. 

He  welcomed  Willie,  and  promised  at  once  to  be  his 
friend,  and  thanked  him  for  bringing  Josh,  who  was  at 
once  installed  as  a  sort  of  second-class  boy. 

"  Let  me  see  what  I'll  rate  you  as,"  said  the  commander, 
looking  down  at  the  queer  little  waif  of  the  wilds.  "  You 
want  to  be  rated,  don't  you,  lad  ?  " 

"  I  don't  mind  very  much,"  said  Josh,  "  I'm  used  to  it ; 
but  I'd  rather  they  did  it  with  the  cane  than  the  tawse." 

The  first  lieutenant  laughed. 

"  We'll  call  you  lee-scupper  boy,  and  your  duty  for  a 
time  will  be  to  assist  the  cook's  make  and  look  after  the 
live  stock." 

There  was  a  muster-by-open-list  about  a  fortnight  after 
this,  when  every  man- Jack  in  the  ship  has  to  answer  to 
his  name,  and  as  he  passes  before  the  captain  declare  his 
rating.  When  little  Josh  was  called  he  appeared,  and, 
touching  his  cap,  created  no  little  amusement  by  shout- 
ing out, — 

"  Joshua  McGregor,  sir,  captain  of  the  lee  scuppers/* 

The  first  lieutenant  laughed  behind  his  hand,  and  the 
captain,  an  innocent-looking  but  brave  little  man,  said : 

"  Bless  my  heart  and  soul !  What  an  extraordinary 
rating  !  Well,  well,  well !  " 


118  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

While  the  ship  was  still  completing  her  refit,  the  gun- 
room officers  were  "located,"  as  the  Yankees  say,  on  board 
an  old  line-of-battle  ship  hulk,  and  a  right  merry  mess 
they  made  of  it. 

In  number  they  were  nine  all  told;  namely,  two 
surgeon's  mates, — one  being  a  supernumerary, — one 
mate,  one  master's  assistant,  three  midshipmen,  including 
Willie  Grant,  and  two  clerks. 

They  had  four  marines  and  a  cook  to  wait  on  them, 
and  the  former  also  did  sentry  go. 

The  hulk  was  a  great  old  high-sterned  line-of-battle 
ship,  taken  from  the  French  during  the  seven  years'  war, 
but  made  of  timber  that  would  apparently  never  wear  out. 

One  of  the  midshipmen  was  a  man  in  reality.  A  rough 
old  tar  of  nearly  thirty  or  over,  who  had  at  first  been 
taken  from  before  the  mast  to  fill  a  temporary  vacancy, 
and  had  his  acting-rating  subsequently  confirmed,  and 
tails  added  to  his  jacket.  This  was  by  no  means  an 
uncommon  occurrence  in  the  dashing  days  of  old. 

He  was  naturally  somewhat  unpolished,  and  sometimes 
a  little  uncouth  in  language ;  but  a  brave  fellow,  a  good 
sailor,  and  a  great  favourite  in  the  mess. 

Jack  Williams  was  this  hirsute  mid's  name,  but  as  he 
talked  and  told  so  many  stories  about  Admiral  Benbow, 
he  soon  got  the  sobriquet  of  "Old  Benbow"  himself,  and 
by  that  tally  he  must  be  known  in  our  tale. 

Yes,  it  was  a  merry  mess  in  the  hulk,  and  like  the 
McDonalds  before  the  Flood,  they  had  a  boat  of  their 
own. 


Joining  the  Service.  119 

Even  after  the  Castile  was  ready  for  sea,  this  hulk-mess 
was  kept  up.  There  were  no  watches  in  particular  to 
keep,  and  the  captain  said  :  "Let  the  b3ys  remain  in  the 
hulk ;  we'll  be  rid  of  their  noise  for  as  long  as  we  can." 

If  one  of  the  three  mid's  was  a  man,  another  was  a 
mite. 

A  smarter,  brighter,  cheekier  boy  never  trod  on  a 
quarter-deck  or  shivered  for  delinquencies  at  a  mast- 
head. He  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  but  very  small, 
and  as  active  altogether  as  a  ferret.  He  was  the  son  of  a 
lord,  and  called  the  Honourable  Henry  de  Grey. 

That  is,  he  was  called  Mr.  de  Grey  on  the  quarter- 
deck, but  down  below,  alas  !  his  high-sounding  cognomen 
was  degenerated  into  Dick-Rae,  and  often  shortened  into 
Dick. 

Dick  did  not  mind  a  bit  what  he  was  called,  he  said,  so 
long  as  the  master-at-arms  did  not  call  him  too  soon  in 
the  morning. 


CHAPTER  II. 

LIFE    IN   THE    OLD    HULK. 

"  AXD  now,  having  nobly  defended  the  cause 
Of  the  nation,  of  freedom,  religion,  and  laws  ; 
Her  timbers  all  crazy,  all  open  her  seams, 
Torn  and  wounded  her  planks,  and  rotten  her  beams  ; 
To  the  last  humbly  fated  her  country  to  aid, 
Near  the  very  same  slip  where  her  keel  was  first  laid  ; 
No  trace  of  her  rating,  save  her  ports  and  her  bulk, 
The  pride  of  the  ocean's  cut  down— a  sheer  hulk  !  " 

— Dibdin. 

BEY  talk  and  tell  us  about  David  Rizzio's 
blood-stain  outside  Queen  Mary's  boudoir 
door  in  Holyrood  Palace,  and  I  daresay 
the  ugly  dark  spot  at  the  top  of  the 
stair  was  caused  by  the  blood  of  the  murdered  man. 
But  had  you  seen  the  marks  on  the  deck  of  that  great 
hulk,  you  would  have  thought  no  more  of  Holyrood. 
Of  course  the  decks  were  scrubbed,  and  then  the  stains 
were  visible :  here  and  there  all  along,  but  more  especi- 
ally near  the  ports  where  the  guns  had  been,  and  on  the 
poop— deep,  dark  and  terrible.  They  were  plentiful,  too, 
alongside  the  fore  and  main  hatches,  where  Frenchmen 


Life  in  the  Old  Hulk.  121 

had  fallen  in  dozens  when  the  British,  cutlass  in  hand, 
had  boarded  and  chased  the  enemy  below. 

We  do  not  have  such  deep  stains  on  our  old  ships, 
because  no  sooner  is  a  fight  over  than  all  trace  of  it  is 
eliminated,  and  buckets  of  water  and  holystone  quickly 
banish  the  ugly  tell-tale  stains  ;  but  the  French  never 
were  so  particular. 

There  was  said  to  be  a  ghost  on  that  old  hulk  too — 
perhaps  there  were  scores — the  ghost  of  a  rnaster-at- 
arnis,  who  had  met  his  death  in  a  queer  way,  and  used  to 
haunt  the  orlop  deck  of  the  hulk,  carrying  his  head  in 
his  hand  by  the  hair,  and  swinging  it  about  as  if  it  had 
been  a  lantern.  Those  who  swore  they  had  seen  him, 
averred  that  if  he  wanted  to  talk  to  you,  he  held  his  head 
aloft,  or  swung  it  near  your  face.  Old  Benbow  would 
not  have  gone  below  to  that  orlop  deck  after  nightfall  for 
five  hundred- weight  of  Spanish  doubloons,  so  he  said ;  only 
I  do  not  myself  believe  there  was  anything  more  dis- 
agreeable in  the  cockpit  than  cockroaches  or  an  occasional 
rat.  There  were  plenty  of  the  former,  and,  strange  to 
say,  some  of  the  latter,  though  what  they  got  to  eat  is 
more  than  I  can  say.  Perhaps  the  rats  swam  ashore 
to  feed,  and  came  off  at  night  to  sleep. 

Summer  soon  gave  evidence  of  its  near  approach. 
Away  out  in  the  country  the  woods  were  all  green,  and 
alive  with  the  voices  of  thousands  of  singing  birds  ;  and 
in  the  beautiful  evenings  it  was  the  custom  of  lovers,  as  it 
is  in  our  day,  to  walk  a  long  way  to  hear  the  nightingale 
sing. 


122  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

One  day  at  dinner-time  the  young  Hon.  midshipmite 
burst  into  the  mess-room  of  the  hulk,  which,  by  the  way, 
had  been  the  admiral's  own  quarters  in  the  days  of  auld 
lang  syne.  De  Grey,  or  Dick,  let  us  call  him,  was  shouting 
and  singing,  and  waving  aloft  a  letter. 

"Mr.   President,"   he    said,    bowing    to  one   of    the 
surgeon's  mates  who  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table ;  "  Mr. 
President,  and  gentleman  all :  here  is  a  letter  I've  just 
brought  from  the  Castile,  and  what  do  you  think  it  con- 
tains ?    Why,  an  invitation  to  a  hop  at  Mrs.  Flounce's." 
"  The  beef  contractor's  wife  ?  "  said  the  President. 
"The  beef  contractor's    lady,    sir.      Dr.    Hunt,    I'm 
astonished  at  you.     Is  her  husband  not  rich  ?     He  made 
his  money  by  beef,  'tis  true,  but  can  we  live  without 
beef?" 

"  Was  it  beef  ?  "  said  Mr.  Dance,  the  mate. 
"  I  am  fully  aware  of  what  you  allude  to,  Mr.  Dance," 
replied  the  Hon.,  helping  himself  to  about  half  a  pound 
of  rump  steak.  "You  allude  to  the  fact— the  trifling 
fact,  sir — that  on  one  or  two  occasions  horses  shoes  have 
been  found  in  the  beef  casks  of  Mr.  Flounce,  and  once  a 
pair  of  stirrups  and  a  portion  of  a  military  bridle  had  got 
mixed  up  with  some  sirloins.  That  is  nothing,— a  mere 
matter  of  business,  let  us  say.  But  these  substantial 
facts  remain,  namely,  that  the  Flounces  are  wealthy  and 

well  to  do,  and " 

"  Mrs.  Flounce  used  to  keep  a  tripe  shop." 
"  Mr.  President,  I  call  upon  you  to  maintain  order,  sir, 
till  I  have  finished  speaking." 


Life  in  the  Old  Hullc.  123 

"  Silence  !  "  roared  Hunt,  knocking  on  the  table  with 
tlie  handle  of  the  carving  knife. 

"  I  was  going  to  add/'  continued  Dick-Rae,  "  when 
that  purser's  clerk  interrupted  me  so  unfeelingly,  "  that 
the  Flounces  have  a  fine  house,  beautiful  lawns  and 
gardens,  asparagus  beds,  and  last,  but  not  least,  three  of 
the  most  charming  girls  for  daughters  in  all  the  town." 

"Hear!  hear!" 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  in  this  world  riches  rule  the  roost, 
cash  is  cock  of  the  walk ;  and  we  are  invited  to  a  ball,  and 
I  will  now  read  the  invitation.  Ahem  !  It  is  brief  and 
to  the  point,  and  written,  I'll  go  bail,  by  the  white  and 
slender  hand  of  Julia  herself,  and  not  by  the  fair  but 
somewhat  fat  fingers  of  the  Mrs.  Flounce  :  '  Mrs.  and  the 
Miss  Flounces  request  the  honour  of  the  Hon.  Henry  de 
Grey,  and  the  other  gunroom  officers  of  H.M.S.  Castile, 
to  a  ball  at  Flounce  Hall,  on  the  evening  of  the  first  of 
June.'  Sweet  and  simple,"  added  Dick  Rae ;  "  and  you 
will  observe  that  they  mention  me  particularly,  which 
proves  that,  wealthy  though  they  be,  they  do  not  despise 
rank.  Steward,  bring  that  pig's  cheek  round  here. 
Thanks." 

"  Why,"  said  old  Benbow,  "  that's  the  day  of  our  boat 
races  at  Spithead." 

"  True,  my  Benbow,  true ;  and  all  the  better.  What 
a  time  we'll  have  of  it !  The  Glorious  First  of  June  !  a 
boat-race  and  a  ball !  Now,  who's  going  ?  Benbow, 
you'll  go  for  one ;  Smart,  Dr.  Hunt,  and  you,  Grant,  and 
I  myself  must  go." 


124  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"Will  the  Hon.  Henry  de  Grey,"  said  Smart,  "really 
degrade  himself  by  going  to  a  beef  carer's  hop  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  vile  master's  mate  !  "  cried  Dick-Eae,  put- 
ting his  fingers  in  his  ears;  "what  a  shocking  pun! 
Mr.  President,  do  something,  for  heaven's  sake." 

"But  you  mentioned  me,"  said  old  Benbow.  "My 
dear  lad,  balls  and  hops  are  for  my  betters.  Me  among 
ladies  with  low-bodied  dresses  and  bracelets  !  Me  among 
grand  people  dancing  Sir  Roger !  No,  no,  lad  ;  a  bull 
would  be  better  mannered  than  old  Beubow.  Besides,  I 
ain't  got  proper  dress." 

"  I  tell  you,  Benbow,  I  insist  upon  your  going." 

"Well,  well ;  but  I'll  be  as  shy,  bless  your  heart,  as  a 
maid  on  her  marriage  morning.  Besides,  I  can't  dance 
any  more  than  a  turtle.'' 

"We'll  arrange  all  that,"  said  the  middy;  "but  any- 
how you're  going." 

It  wanted  a  whole  fortnight  to  the  first  of  June,  and 
almost  every  evening  these  young  officers  had  the  ship's 
fiddler  on  board  the  hulk,  and  practised  their  steps  in- 
cessantly— quadrilles,  contra  dances,  cotillons,  and  Sir 
Roger  de  Coverley  itself. 

Young  Dick-Rao  bent  all  his  energies  to  making  old 
Benbow  proficient.  His  pupil  proved  an  apt  one;  he  put 
his  whole  heart  and  soul  in  the  business,  and  after  ten 
days  of  constant  dancing  drill,  the  middy  pronounced 
him  perfect.  He  was  a  little  clumsy,  it  is  true,  and 
sometimes  gave  a  lurch  to  leeward,  as  if  down- hauling  a 
jib-sheet ;  but  that  did  not  matter  much. 


Life  in  the  Old  Hulk.  125 

The  boat  race  day  came  round  at  last,  a  day  never 
to  be  forgotten  at  Spithead,  for  all  the  Portsmouth 
world  was  there,  all  the  Portsmouth  world's  wives  and 
daughters  all  so  gay.  The  races  were  limited  to  the  cutters 
of  the  fleet,  so  soon  to  sail  for  foreign  service,  and  twenty 
were  entered  in  all ;  and  there  were  all  sorts  of  prizes  for 
all  sorts  of  races,  and  much  fun  and  laughing  and  talking, 
and  general  jollity.  The  shores  were  lined  with  sight- 
seers, the  water  was  crowded  with  boats  and  skiffs  of 
every  imaginable  kind,  and  with  yachts  as  well;  and  the 
beauty  of  the  whole  business — so  thought  the  junior 
officers — was  that  nearly  all  those  boats  and  yachts  were 
crowded  with  pretty  parasols,  from  under  which  there 
peeped  youthful  faces  as  pretty  and  enchanting  as  angels 
in  a  dream. 

There  was  plenty  of  fun,  both  on  shore  and  afloat ; 
and  it  is  needless  to  say  that  the  gunroom  officers, 
the  younger  ones  at  all  events,  were  in  the  middle 
of  it. 

So  the  day  wore  away,  and  the  sea  was  deserted  except 
by  an  occasional  boat  on  business,  and  the  reflection  of 
the  stars  that  shone  in  its  bosom. 

Now,  although  there  were  fewer  madder  middies  in  the 
service  than  Dick-Kae,  and  fewer  more  fond  of  pranks, 
he  really  was  a  little  gentleman  at  heart.  He  belonged 
to  one  of  the  oldest  families  in  England,  and  was  honour- 
able in  nature  as  well  as  in  name.  But  he  did  not  like 
the  style  of  invitation  sent  to  his  mess.  Why  should 
Mrs.  Flounce  specially  mention  his  name,  he  asked  him- 


126  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

self,  unless  she  was  a  veritable  old  "  tuft-hunter  "  ?  It  was 
not  good  form,  and  he  determined  if  possible  to  serve 
her  out— to  "  sell  her  a  pup/'  as  they  phrased  it  in  the 
service  in  those  days.  Benbow  was  to  be  the  pup. 
Benbow  was  willing  to  enter  into  the  joke,  just  for  the 
fun  of  the  thing. 

And  the  joke  was  this.  Dick-Eae  himself  was  to  go 
to  the  ball  as  simple  Mr.  Williams,  midshipman,  and 
old  Benbow  was  to  go  as  the  Hon.  Henry  de  Grey,  for 
neither  were  personally  known  to  either  the  Mrs.  Flounce 
or  the  Misses  Flounce. 

The  other  officers  of  the  ship  were  told  about  it,  and 
saw  no  objection,  but  rather  the  reverse. 

The  Castile's  fellows  were  somewhat  late  in  getting  to 
the  ball,  but  they  were  made  heartily  welcome  never- 
theless by  the  charming  but  very  fat  hostess,  by  her 
stately  and  beautiful  daughters,  and  by  old  Flounce 
himself. 

Not  a  bad  fellow  was  old  Flounce,  and  very  sensible 
indeed,  only  a  trifle  henpecked ;  and  he  had  to  carry  out 
his  wife's  instructions  about  being  excessively  polite  to 
the  Hon.  de  Grey. 

"  Because,  you  know,"  his  better  and  bigger  half  had 
told  him,  "the  haristocracy  is  the  haristocracy,  and 
there's  no  saying  what  might  come  of  it." 

So  Flounce  cornered  poor  Benbow  whenever  he  got 
the  chance,  and  called  him  "your  lo'dship "  in  every 
sentence,  and  talked  to  him  of  the  House  of  Lords  and 
the  king,  and  affairs  of  State,  till  Benbow  would  have 


Life  in  the  Old  Hulk.  127 

given  his  watch  to  get  out  into  the  open  air  with  a  pipe 
in  his  mouth. 

The  wicked  midshipmite  who  was  accountable  for  poor 
Benbow's  misery  was  enjoying  himself  as  well  as  ever  a 
middy  did  before  or  since,  dancing  with  all  the  prettiest 
and  tallest  girls  he  could  find,  talking  enough  for  two, 
boasting  enough  for  a  dozen,  and  even  "  saucing  "  soldier 
officers  who  were  big  enough  to  put  him  in  a  coat  pocket. 
He  devoted  not  a  little  time  to  flirting  with  the  junior 
Flounces.  The  elder  Miss  Flounce  had,  by  her  mother's 
express  private  orders,  cocked  her  ribbons  at  the  Hon. 
de  Grey — Benbow  to  wit.  Benbow  was  terribly  shy 
for  a  time,  and  what  made  him  doubly  so  was  this :  ho 
felt  that  he  was  dressed  somewhat  like  a  guy,  for  his 
waistcoat  was  far  too  small  for  him,  and  his  coat  was  a 
jacket  to  which  tails  had  been  added  of  cloth  a  shade 
darker.  Moreover,  he  felt  ill  at  ease  about  the  neck, 
and  when  he  danced  and  went  whirling  round,  his  coat 
tails  stuck  out  considerably,  so  that  he  gave  rise  to  no 
end  of  merriment  and  half-disguised  talk  and  tittering. 
More  than  once  Miss  Flounce  was  put  to  the  blush. 
But  then,  was  her  partner  not  an  "  honourable,"  and  was 
her  mother's  eye  not  on  her  ? 

More  than  once  the  naughty  middy  brushed  past  the 
pair  of  them,  and  never  forgot  to  sing  out  loud  enough 
for  all  near  at  hand  to  hear, — 

"  How  are  you  getting  on,  my  lord  ?  " 

And  Benbow  would  give  his  trousers  a  hitch  and 
reply,— 


128  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  I'm  heaving  round  with  a  will,  my  lad." 

The  supper  was  a  genuine  business  affair  that  nearly 
all  hands  sat  down  to,  not  like  the  standing  scramble  we 
are  used  to  now-a-days.  Benbow  was  seated  near  Mrs. 
Flounce  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  as  the  wine  mounted 
to  his  head,  he  made  remarks  so  odd  and  droll  that  all 
within  hail  laughed  till  the  tears  filled  their  eyes.  Mrs. 
Flounce  several  times  bent  over  to  some  of  her  guests, 
and  remarked  in  a  stage  whisper, — 

"  Isn't  the  Hon.  de  Grey  original  ?  Isn't  he  delight- 
ful ?  Quite  the  genius." 

It  was  not  long  before  this  thirty-year-old  midshipman 
opened  out  in  earnest,  and  thrilled  his  audience  with 
terrible  anecdotes  of  his  favourite  hero,  the  redoubtable 
Admiral  Benbow  ;  and  on  this  subject  he  really  did 
speak  well  and  to  the  point.  He  was  a  handsome  fellow, 
too,  though  rough-and-right,  very  honest  and  straight- 
forward, and  Miss  Flounce  really  began  to  be  proud  of 
her  partner  rather  than  otherwise. 

Certainly  Benbow  danced  more  with  Miss  Flounce  than 
was  proper  etiquette,  but  of  course  he  knew  no  better. 
Once  Mrs.  Flounce  took  her  daughter  aside. 

"  Aren't  you  proud  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Aren't  you 
happy?" 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  poor  girl,  whose  fair  face  was 
flushed,  "I  ought  to  be;  but  he  is  really  so  eccen- 
tric." 

"  But,  my  dear  child,  think;  one  of  Hengland's  noblest 
haristocrats.  And  I  assure  you,  dear,  he  is  taken  with 


"  If  you  please,  sir,  I've  come  to  join." 


[Page  115. 


Life  in  the  Old  Hulk  129 

you — smitten  with  you ;   and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he 
proposed  this  very  night." 

Well,  after  supper  there  was  no  mistake  about  it,  Old 
Benbow  had  lost  all  his  shyness ;  and  as  to  his  dress,  late 
of  an  evening  at  balls  in  those  good  old  times  people 
took  little  notice  of  such  trifles.  But  to  have  seen  Old 
Benbow  in  Roger  de  Coverley  was  something  to  be 
remembered  for  years  after.  What  a  night  it  was  alto- 
gether !  There  was  no  mistake  about  it  that,  beef  or  not 
beef,  Mrs.  Flounce's  ball  was  a  success. 

"  As  bees  flee  hame  wi'  loads  o'  treasure, 
The  minutes  winged  their  way  wi'  pleasure. 
But  pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread, 
You  seize  the  flower,  its  bloom  is  shed ; 
Or  like  the  snow  falls  in  the  river, 
A  moment  white,  then  melts  for  ever ; 
Or  like  th'  aurora  borealis  race, 
That  flit  ere  you  can  point  their  place  ; 
Or  like  the  rainbow's  lovely  form, 
Evanishing  amid  the  storm." 

The  grey  dawn  of  the  summer  morning  crept  through 
the  sky  at  last;  then  good-byes  were  said  and  farewells 
whispered,  and  soon  thereafter  our  fellows  of  the  Castile 
were  speeding  in  their  boat  back  to  the  ship. 


CHAPTER  III. 


"  PLAIN   JACK   WILLIAMS." 

;  A  SAILOR  and  an  honest  heart, 
Like  ship  and  helm,  are  ne'er  apart  ; 
For  how  could  one  stem  wind  and  tide 
If  t'other  should  refuse  to  guide  ? 
With  that  she  freely  cuts  the  wave. 

So  the  tar, 

"When  dashing  waves  around  him  jar, 
Consults  his  heart,  and  danger  braves 

Where  duty  calls." 

—Dibdin. 

OYS  will  be  boys/'  said  Captain  Oldrey 
of  the  Castile  next  day,  when  Dr.  Curver 
laughingly  told  him  of  Dick-Rae's  little 
practical  joke. 
They  were  walking  arm-in-arm  on  the  quarter-deck 
just  after  breakfast. 

Now  it  may  not  look  like  strict  service  for  the  captain 
of  a  frigate  to  walk  arm-in-arm  with  even  his  head 
surgeon  j  but  these  two  officers  knew  each  other  well, 
and  were  great  friends. 

"Yes/3  said  the  doctor,  "of  course  boys  will  be  boys, 
and  I  don't  care  a  bit  for  a  boy  that  isn't  a  boy." 

130 


"Plain  Jack  Williams."  131 

"  Nonsense,  Curver;  you  like  all  boys,  you're  the 
boy's  friend  par  excellence.  Didn't  you  often  enough  pre- 
vent me  from  flogging  even  second-class  lads  in  the  old 
Rodney,  or  order  them  to  be  cut  down  before  the  boVn's 
mate  had  got  well  under  weigh  with  the  cat  ?  " 

"  Hang  the  cat !  "  said  Curver. 

' '  Yes,  hang  the  cat,  in  the  gunners'  cabin  for  instance. 
Ah  !  Curver,  you've  a  great  big  thumping  kind  heart  of 
your  own,  but  duty's  duty,  and  service  is  service." 

"  But,"  continued  the  captain,  "  I  knew  your  little 
game,  even  in  the  Rodney,  though  you  didn't  think  so, 
mon  ami.  I'll  describe  it  to  you  in  three  scenes : — 

"  Scene  I.  The  doctor  and  Tommie  Trot  in  the  sick- 
bay. 

Doctor  (loquitur) — (Tommie  in  tears).  'No,  Tommie, 
there  is  no  physical  bar  to  your  being  flogged.' 

Tommie.  '  Oh,  I  wish  there  was  a  bar,  sir.  I  wish 
I  had  heart  disease  or  something/ 

Doctor.  '  Twaddle,  Tommie,  twaddle.  Go  and  take 
your  punishment  like  a  man,  and  don't  go  and  empty 
an  ink-bottle  again  over  the  schoolmaster's  only  linen 
shirt/ 

Tommie.     c  Hoo — hoo — hoo — oo  !     Oh !  sir/ 

Doctor.  '  Off  out  of  here  !  And  mind  you  don't  faint 
during  the  flogging,  else  I'd  have  to  cut  you  down/ 

Scene  II.     Tommie  lashed  to  the  grating. 
Commander     (loquitur}.       'Commence    the     punish- 
ment/ 


132  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

BoWs  Mate  (beginning).     '  One  !  ' 

Tommie.     '  Oh  !     Jee— roos— alum  !!!!!!' 

BoVn's  Mate.     <  Two  !  ! ' 

Totnraie.     '  Oh  !     Kriekie— Doodle  !  ain't  it  hot  !!!!!' 

BoVn's  Mate.     '  Three  !  !  !  ' 

Tommie.     '  Murder  in  Irish.     Oo— oo— oo  !  !  !  ! ' 

Tommie  faints. 

Bo'sVs  Mate.     < Four  !  !  ! ! ' 

Tommie  makes  no  sign. 

Dr.  Curver,  holding  up  his  hand  and  feeling  Tommie's 
pulse,  then  saluting  the  commander :  '  Syncope,  sir, 
that  may  prove  fatal  if  the  punishment  be  continued.' 

Commander.  '  All  right.  Take  him  down  and  carry 
him  forward/ 

Tommie  is  taken  to  the  sick-bay,  smiling  slyly. 

Tommie  (loquitur}.     '  Doctor,  you're  a  brick  ! ' 

Scene  III.  The  sick-bay.  Cold  cream  for  Tommie's 
back,  commiseration  for  his  mind,  and  a  drop  of  cordial 
as  a  reviver/' 


Dr.  Curver  laughed,  but  admitted  there  was  some  little 
foundation  of  fact  in  ihese  scenes.  "  But,"  he  said, 
"  even  though  I  cut  the  boys  down,  you  could  have 
lashed  them  up  again  and  given  them  fum-fum  a  week 
afterwards." 

"Did  ever. you  know  me  do  that?  " 

"No,  Captain  Oldrey,  no." 

There  was  a  minute's  pause  in  the  conversation  ;  then, 


"Plain  Jack  Williams:'  133 

"  Carver/'  said  the  captain,  "  I'll  bet  you  iny  old  dress- 
sword-belt  agaiusfc  your  best  new  one  that  young  De 
Grey  goes  to  the  Flounces  and  apologises.''' 

"  I  won't  have  your  bet,  Captain,  for  I  know  that  De 
Grey  is  a  little  gentleman.  There  isn't  much  of  him,  but 
it's  good  what  there  is." 

"Yes.     And  what  about  the  new  mid,  Mr.  Grant  ?  " 

"  From  what  little  I  have  seen  of  him,  he  has  a  high 
sense  of  honour,  and  a  determination  to  do  his  duty.  His 
fault  may  be  that  he  is,  like  all  Scotchmen,  a  trifle  hot- 
headed." 

"  And  Smart  ?     How  is  he  ?  " 

"  A  good  lad,  and  willing,  but  somewhat  lazy.'; 

"  Ha  !  look,  yonder  goes  the  dingey  from  the  hulk. 
And  sure  enough,  Williams,  or  Old  Benbow  as  they  call 
him,  is  in  it,  and  De  Grey  as  well.  Now,  where  would 
your  new  sword-belt  have  been  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  have  risked  it,"  said  the  doctor. 

Dick-Rae  and  Old  Benbow  went  straight  to  the 
Flounces,  and  were  most  graciously  received. 

Julia — that  is  Miss  Flounce — came  into  the  drawing- 
room  arrayed  in  a  summer  morning  robe  of  some  kind, 
that  became  her,  so  thought  Benbow,  better  than  even 
her  ball-dress. 

She  extended  her  white  hand  somewhat  languidly  to 
her  partner  of  the  night  before,  and  he  seized  it  and  gave 
it  a  genuine  sailor's  squeeze.  There  was  no  humbug 
about  this  man,  at  all  events. 

"  I  hope,  Mr.  de  Grey,"  said  Mrs.  Flounce,  addressing 


134  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

him,  "  you  have  quite  recovered  the  fatigue  of  the  ball- 
room?" 

"  Fatigue  !  "  said  Old  Benbow,  "  I  never  heard  it  called 
that  before.  Now,  two  hours  aloft  reefing  frozen  top- 
sails in  half  a  gale  of  wind  is  a  little  fatiguing,  I  confess ; 
but  a  ball — and  in  such  company  !  But,"  he  added, 
"myself  and  my  young  friend,  the  Hon.  Henry  de  Grey 
here,  that  we  call  Dick-Rae  for  fondness  "  (both  ladies 
started),  "  came  to  apologise.  We  changed  names  last 
night.  He  is  De  Grey;  I'm  plain  Jack  Williams  !  " 

"  It  was  all  my  fault,  I  assure  you,"  began  Dick. 

"  Don't  believe  him,  ladies." 

"  But,  Benbow " 

' '  I  won't  let  you  speak." 

"  I  will  speak." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  I  tell  you." 

Julia  looked  from  the  one  to  the  other,  then  burst 
into  a  merry  peel  of  laughing,  in  which  after  a  moment 
or  two  even  her  mother  joined,  and  so  the  matter 
ended. 

No,  not  quite  though  j  and  as  this  is  not  a  love  tale  in 
the  strict  sense  of  the  term,  I  may  just  as  well  tell  my 
readers  at  once  how  the  matter  did  end. 

Well,  then,  after  leaving  the  Flounces,  Dick-Rae  and 
Old  Benbow  repaired  to  an  old-fashioned  inn  called  the 
Fountain. 

"How  shall  we  spend  the  time?  "  said  Dick. 

"  Game  at  draughts,"  said  Benbow. 

"  Well,"  cried  the  former,  "  bring  the  board,  waiter ; 


"Plain  Jack  Williams."  135 

and  look  here,  my  friend :  I'll  play  you  for  a  new  suit  of 
clothes.  We  both  want  one." 

"  Right ! " 

Now  Dick-Rae  was  a  very  good  player ;  but  he  lost 
this  time.  Sly  Dick  !  I  fear  he  did  so  on  purpose. 
N'importe.  Off  the  two  went  now  to  Dick-Rae's  own. 
outfitter,  and  next  Sunday  Old  Benbow  appeared  on  the 
quarter-deck  of  the  Castile  so  nattily  rigged  out  that 
second  Lieutenant  Buchanan — a  brown-whiskered  son  of 
Caledonia — hardly  knew  him. 

On  the  Monday  evening  Dick-Rae  and  he  were  again 
at  the  Flounces',  and  Benbow  wore  his  new  "  togs." 

"  Mr.  Williams  and  I  have  come  to  take  the  girls  for 
a  drive/'  said  Dick-Rae. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Mrs.  Flounce.  "  Well,  Julia  and  Ada 
can  go." 

It  was  a  dog-cart  they  had.  The  honourable  drove, 
and  by  his  side  was  the  charming,  chatty  little  Ada. 
Dick  and  she  were  well  matched. 

Behind  were  Julia  and  Benbow.  The  latter  felt  in 
fine  form,  with  which  perhaps  the  fine  clothes  had 
something  to  do ;  for  really,  after  all,  being  pleasantly 
dressed  does  put  one  on  fairly  good  terms  with  himself. 

Being  in  fine  form,  Benbow  launched  out  wonderfully, 
and  held  Julia  spell-bound,  entranced,  and  all  the  rest  of 
it,  with  the  stories  of  his  wonderful  adventures  by  sea 
and  land.  There  was  no  bombast  about  Benbow,  no 
boasting.  He  spoke  in  plain  English,  conversationally, 
but  every  word  told,  every  sentence  was  graphic.  No 


136  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

wonder   that   Julia  gazed   on   his   face  and   his  bright, 
earnest  eyes,  and — thought  him  a  hero  ! 

They  listened  for  the  nightingale  that  night,  but  he 
was  almost  silent.  They  did  not  care.  They  drove  back 
home,  and  all  confessed  the  time  had  j#ou;;i,  there  was  no 
other  name  for  it. 

Every  second  night  for  weeks  these  two  officers,  the 
midshipman  and  the  midship  mite,  went  and  took  the 
girls  out. 

Said  tho  midshipman  to  the  rnidshipmite  one  day, 
"  Dick-Rae,  I  wish  we  were  at  sea." 

"  Why,  my  worthy  Old  Benbow." 

"  Because  I  love  Julia." 

"  Go  and  tell  her  then." 

"  What,  straight  out  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  that's  sailor  fashion,  I  believe." 

"  I  will  then,  but " 

"Bother  the  rbuts.'  Come  on  shore  with  me  to- 
night." 

They  went. 

They  drove. 

Benbow  conquered!  Plain  Jack  Williams  was  vic- 
torious !  Oh  !  what  would  Julia's  match-making  mamma 
not  have  done  if  she  had  known  in  time  how  matters 
were  to  end. 

But  she  did  not,  for  Julia  had  taken  the  tiller  in  her 
own  hand,  and  when  it  was  all  settled  that  in  some  future 
day  Benbow  should  lead  her  to  the  altar,  then  she  asked 
her  mother's  consent. 


"Plain  Jack  Williams."  137 

Her  mother  mourned. 

"  But/'  she  said  to  herself,  "  they've  got  to  wait  a  few 
years  till  the  Castile  returns  from  her  commission ; 
anything  might  happen  in  a  few  years  to  sailors  on  the 
sea. 

****** 

Poor  Dem  Rutherford  had  been  left  behind  in  Glengair, 
and  sadly  he  missed  his  friend  and  companion.  Poodah 
did  all  he  could  to  comfort  him,  and  so  did  Miss  McBride 
and  even  old  Tibbie ;  while  Granite  and  Foumart,  in  their 
own  rough,  wild  way,  tried  hard  to  make  him  forget. 

But  all  in  vain  ! 

Willie  Grant  wrote  to  him  long  delightful  letters. 
These,  however,  had  an  effect  quite  the  reverse  of  com- 
forting ;  they  excited  the  boy.  He,  too,  he  argued  with 
himself,  must  have  adventures ;  he  must  see  the  world 
or  die. 

He  was  a  strange  boy,  this  Anglo-Indian  ;  he  was  quite 
as  fond  of  adventure,  in  his  own  way,  as  Willie  was ; 
only  he  lacked  the  steadiness  and  the  patriotism  of  his 
friend.  He — Dem — did  not  care  particularly  about 
England  or  Scotland  either,  he  had  been  reared  in  India, 
among  tinsel,  glitter,  and  show.  He  hardly  remembered 
his  mother,  and  had  known  far  too  little  of  his  father;  so 
that  had  he  consulted  his  own  wishes,  he  would  as  soon 
now  draw  a  sword  for  France  as  for  Britannia.  He 
would  fain — so  he  thought — be  a  free  lance. 

But  there  was  no  one  now  to  get  him  an  appointment 
as  a  midshipman  in  any  service. 


138  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  Well,"  he  said  to  himself  one  autumn  day,  some  time 
after  the  fleet  to  which  Willie  Grant  was  attached  had 
sailed,  "  I'll  do  what  Willie  meant  doing  at  first ;  I'll  go 
and  be  a  sailor  in  the  merchant  service,  if  I  can't  enter 
the  Royal  Navy  like  a  gentleman." 

He  went  and  told  Poodah  of  his  determination. 

Poodah  was  inconsolable. 

Poodah  preached  and  prayed. 

But  all  in  vain  ! 

"  Wait  here  in  this  place,  Poodah,  I  command  you,"  he 
said.  "  My  uncle  will  come  here,  and  I  will  not  be  long 
away.  Wait." 

One  morning  Miss  McBride  missed  the  boy. 

He  was  gone  ! 


The  fleet  to  which  the  Castile  was  attached  sailed  away 
in  July  for  northern  seas. 

Now,  my  bold  boy-readers,  some  politicians  since  then 
have  been  bold  enough  to  say  that  the  expedition  I  shall 
now  briefly  notice  was  not  justifiable.  I  maintain  it  was, 
and  that  the  whole  affair  was  one  of  the  smartest  I  have 
ever  read  of  in  ancient  or  modern  warfare.  It  quite  cut 
the  ground  from  under  the  feet  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
and  prevented  him  from  carrying  destruction  to  our 
fatherland. 

Here  is  how  we  stood  before  this :  France  had  made 
an  alliance  with  Russia ;  old  sores  were  forgotten,  and  the 
two  nations  became  friends,  in  a  business  way,  and  not  for 


"Plain  Jade  Williams."  139 

love.  The  business  part  of  this  soldered  friendship  lay 
in  sweeping  the  British  fleet  off  the  seas  and  landing  an 
immense  army  about  Edinburgh  perhaps.  They  would 
have  laid  that  city  in  ashes, — if  possible, — then  swept 
onwards  with  fire  and  sword,  bringing  sack  and  sorrow 
to  every  city  in  our  noble  empire,  till  London  was  reached 
and  razed  to  the  earth.  To  do  this  they  needed  the 
mighty  Danish  fleet  that  then  lay  off  Copenhagen.  Had 
they  obtained  it,  the  invasion  would  have  been  a 
certainty. 

The  Danish  fleet  was  the  bone  that  lay  in  front  of  the 
British  Lion. 

The  French  Eagle  and  the  Russian  Bear,  said, — 

"  Let  as  seize  the  bone  and  therewith  batter  the  silly 
old  Lion's  brains  out.  He  is  sound  asleep." 

But  was  the  Lion  asleep  ?  If  so  he  speedily  awoke, 
and  forty  of  our  navy  ships,  including  gunboats,  frigates 
and  line-of-battle  vessels,  under  bold  Admiral  Gambier, 
with  twenty-seven  thousand  troops,  were  despatched 
with  all  speed  to  Copenhagen,  and  at  once  Lord  Cath- 
cart  and  his  merry  men  landed  and  invested  the  Danish 
capital. 

I  do  not  wonder  at  the  Danes  being  astonished  at  this 
sharp  practice. 

Only,  before  a  shot  was  fired,  Admiral  Gambier  com- 
menced negotiations  with  the  Danish  Government;  but 
these  fell  through.  Perhaps  the  Danes  did  not  think  the 
British  were  in  earnest,  because  the  two  nations  were  not 
at  war.  Not  openly  so,  but  Denmark  meant  to  play  us 


140  Li  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

what  Paddy  Flint  of  the  Castile  called  "  a  nasty  dhnrty 
thrick,  sure  !  "  and  we  were  perfectly  justified  in  "  trump- 
ing that  trick." 
We  will  see  in  the  next  chapter  how  that  was  done. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CONTAINING    A    LITTLE    FUN   AND    A    LITTLE    FIGHTING. 

"  AGAIN  !  again  !  again  ! 
And  the  havoc  did  not  slack, 
Till  a  feeble  cheer  the  Dane, 
To  our  cheering  sent  us  back  ;  — 

Their  shots  along  the  deep  slowly  bocm  ; — 
Then  ceased— and  all  is  wail, 
As  they  strike  the  shattered  sail, 
Or,  in  conflagration  pale, 

Light  the  gloom." 

- — Campbell. 

HE  Castile  frigate  joined  the  other  ships  of 
the    fleet   in    Yarmouth    Boads,   and    in 
company    therewith    sailed   away   to   the 
north,  preceded   by   some  and   followed 
by  others. 

The  whole  fleet  had  been  got  ready  with  the  utmost 
expedition.  Indeed,  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  for  the 
season  was  already  far  advanced,  and  there  was  every- 
thing ahead  of  them  to  contend  against  in  these  treacher- 
ous seas.  Fogs,  for  instance,  are  common  in  the  German 
Ocean  in  August,  so  are  calms;  gales  of  wind  may  be 

141 


142  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

expected  in  August,  and  early  in  the  year  ice  appears  at 
the  gates  of  the  Baltic. 

But  when  did  ever  British  sailors  fear  a  foe,  whether 
that  foe  was  the  elements  or  the  combined  fleets  of  half 
a  dozen  nations  ?  If  we  but  fight  as  bravely  in  the  next 
naval  war  as  our  fellows  fought  in  these  stirring  times, 
and  if  we  have  the  wherewithal  to  fight  with,  ships  and 
guns,  there  is  little  doubt  about  our  retaining  our  old 
supremacy  on  the  ocean,  and  of  England  still  continuing 
to  rule  the  waves. 

Willie  Grant  was  attached  to  Old  Benbow's  watch  just 
for  a  time,  to  bring  him  into  the  ways  of  the  service. 
And  little  Josh,  much  to  his  delight,  became  Willie's 
servant,  one  of  the  marines,  who  "  looked  after  and  did 
for  "  Mr.  Smart,  kindly  showing  the  boy  how  to  perform, 
his  duties,  and  even  lashing  up  his  master's  hammock 
for  him. 

Josh  thought  himself  of  no  small  importance  ;  and  no 
wonder,  for  his  duties  were  multifarious.  Here  they  are 
in  detail : — 

1.  To  assist  the  cook's  mate,  and  empty  the  ashes. 
(N.B. — He  was  told  to  throw  them  to  windward 
the  first  day ;  they  came  all  back  in  his  face.  He 
had  the  decks  to  sweep,  and  got  blown-up  and 
laughed  at  so  he  never  went  to  windward  with 
them  again.) 

3.  To  feed  the  fowls  and  pigeons.  He  did  so  most 
carefully,  and  the  pet  of  the  ship,  an  old  game 
cock  who  had  been  round  the  world,  took  quite  a 


A  Little  Fun  and  a  Little  Fighting.      143 

fatherly  interest  in  Josh,  and  never  attempted  to 
spur  him. 

3.  To  feed  and  keep  clean  the  big  Newfoundland  dog, 

and  the   long-haired   Skye  terrier,  and   to   keep 
the  latter  from  fighting  with  Nelson  the  cock. 

4.  To  assist  the  loblolly  boy  in  making  plasters  and 

poultices. 

5.  To  help  to  serve  the  grog  out,  and  make  himself 

generally  useful. 

That  was  all.  But  having  so  many  masters,  of  course 
Josh  had  his  difficulties  ;  but  he  acted  with  such  tacfc  and 
determination,  that  he  surmounted  them  one  by  one;  and 
before  the  Castile  was  a  month  out,  the  boy  was  not  only 
friendly  with  all  hands,  but  a  favourite  with  the  officers 
and  the  pet  of  the  middies'  mess. 

The  old  cock  and  the  terrier  would  fight.  In  fact, 
Nelson  used  to  consider  himself  king  of  the  fo'c's'le, 
whenever  he  clapped  his  wings  and  crew.  He  never  got 
the  crow  quite  out  of  his  throat,  though,  before  Jack — 
the  Skye — was  at  him.  Jack  always  tried  to  seize 
Nelson  by  the  leg  or  wing,  but  was  never  successful,  for 
the  cock  would  leap  nimbly  from  the  deck  and  hit  hard 
and  straight,  upon  which  Jack  would  wheel  just  as  nimbly, 
and  receive  the  blow  on  his  rump  instead  of  on  his  head. 
Jack's  long-haired  rump  was  his  shield  and  buckler. 

Orion,  the  great  jet-black,  straight-coated  Newfound- 
land, used  to  lie  and  look  on  at  these  strange  battles. 

Now,  Orion  was  Jack's  friend,  and  used  to  permit  him 
to  sleep  at  night  between  his  paws;  but  one  day  the 


144  In  the  Dashitty  Days  of  Old. 

terrier,  by  what  he  doubtless  deemed  a  lucky  chance, 
got  Nelson  by  the  neck.  The  cock  roared  out.  I 
dare  say  Orion  thought  this  unfair,  or  that  if  Nelson  was 
slain  the  fun  would  be  all  over.  Anyhow,  he  sprang  to 
the  rescue,  seized  Jack  by  the  back,  jumped  up  on  the 
bulwark,  and  dropped  him  overboard.  He  seemed  to  re- 
pent of  what  he  had  done  immediately,  and  went  yelping 
and  jumping  aft,  like  a  mad  thing,  and  finally  sprang 
overboard  from  the  stern  post.  The  ship  was  hove  to, 
and  a  boat  lowered  and  both  dogs  picked  up.  After  this 
Josh  never  allowed  Jack  and  the  cock  to  get  "  in  tow." 

Josh  McGregor,  "Captain  Josh,"  as  he  was  called — for 
was  he  not  captain  of  the  lee-scuppers  ? — had  a  difference 
of  opinion  with  the  loblolly  boy.  Well,  they  did  as  boys 
did  do  in  those  days,  and  I  dare  say  would  do  now,  they 
threw  off  their  jackets  and  had  it  out  in  the  sick-bay. 
Each  got  a  black  eye,  but  they  respected  each  other  and 
were  friends  ever  afterwards. 

But  Josh's  greatest  difficulty  was  with  the  cook's  mate. 
He  was  harsh  and  quick-tempered,  and  indulged  in  grog 
whenever  he  had  a  chance.  One  day  he  knocked  poor 
little  Josh  down  with  an  iron  ladle.  Josh  determined  to 
retaliate.  He  quietly  put  the  poker— a  fine-pointed  one 
—in  the  fire,  and  it  soon  got  red.  The  sentry  saw  the 
manoeuvre,  but  said  nothing;  for  he  knew  the  cook's 
mate's  character,  and  knew  Josh  too.  Presently  the  man 
was  bending  down  over  a  small  tub,  putting  potatoes  in 
a  net,  with  his  back  to  the  fire. 

"  A  glorious  chance  !  "  thought  Josh.     Out  came  the 


A  Little  Fun  and  a  Little  Fighting.      145 

flaming  poker.  "  One — two — three,"  cried  Josh  !  and 
stabbed  the  matie  in  the  rear,  burning  through  his 
trousers  and  the  skin  and  flesh  within  them. 

The  slogan  of  the  Highlander  rushing  into  battle  is 
something  to  hear  and  remember,  so  is  the  yell  of  the 
Somali  savage  or  the  whoop  of  the  Apache  Indian,  but 
the  shriek  the  cook's  mate  gave  when  little  Josh  so  un- 
ceremoniously branded  him,  was  a  compound  of  all  three, 
it  was  slogan — whoop — and  yell.  He  dropped  the  potato 
net  and  went  shrieking  off  to  the  sick-bay,  while  dogs 
barked  and  the  cock  crew,  the  whole  hullabaloo  being  so 
great  that  the  first  lieutenant  sent  forward  to  ask  if  the 
ship  was  on  fire. 

When  Dr.  Curver  investigated  the  story,  he  cautioned 
Josh  not  again  to  take  the  law  into  his  own  hands ;  but 
while  relating  the  incident  to  his  messmates  aft,  amidst 
a  good  deal  of  laughing,  he  said, — 

"  After  all,  you  know,  it  was  justice  not  revenge." 

Josh  had  to  dress  that  wound  every  day,  and  probably 
it  was  the  tenderness  with  which  he  did  so  that  "  saved 
his  bacon,"  as  the  cook's-mate  phrased  it,  for  he  had 
meant  to  half-kill  Josh,  bub  forgave  him  instead. 


The  affair  of  Copenhagen  and  the  Danish  fleet,  from 
first  to  last  represented  on  a  small  scale  a  whole  cam- 
paign, including  fighting  both  by  sea  and  land,  and  any 
amount  of  adventures. 

At  the  entrance  to  Gottenburg,  four  74's  and  a  fleet 

E 


146  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

of  frigates  and  brigs  were  despatched  to  the  Great  Belt., 
to  prevent  Danish  troops  being  sent  from  Holstein,  where 
the  main  body  of  their  army  lay,  to  Zealand.  The  admiral 
with  the  rest  of  the  fleet  went  on  to  Elsinore,  and  anchored. 
This  was  on  the  3rd  of  August.  Here,  by  degrees,  other 
ships  joined,  and  transports  bearing  troops,  till  by  the 
12th  we  Lad  the  respectable  number  of  five-and-twenty  sail 
of  the  line,  with  forty  and  two  frigates  and  other  vessels ; 
so  that  we  numbered  in  all  nearly  seventy  ships  of  war, 
and  well-nigh  four  hundred  transports. 

The  Danes  were  not  idle,  and  though  the  king — deem- 
ing, I  dare  say,  Copenhagen  somewhat  hot  for  comfort 
— left  for  Jutland,  the  defence  of  the  city  was  placed  in 
good  hands,  and  preparations  to  fight  commenced  at 
once. 

There  was  an  army  of  12,000  in  Copenhagen,  but  the 
greatest  pity  must  be  extended  to  the  inhabitants;  it 
Avas  no  fault  of  the  British,  but  why  Avere  they  not  sent 
away  ere  the  terrible  bombardment  commenced  ? 

The  harbour  runs  up  through  the  town,  but  was 
splendidly  defended.  About  a  mile  to  the  nor  '-nor'-  east 
of  the  mouth  was  the  great  pile-battery  of  Frakonnan, 
Avith  sixty-eight  big  guns  and  monster  mortars ;  another 
pile-battery  in  front  of  the  citadel,  half  as  big;  the 
citadel  itself  very  strongly  fortified  and  gunned.  In  front 
of  the  harbour,  and  near  the  first  battery,  the  ship  Mars, 
of  sixty-four  guns,  four  prames  or  flat-bottomed  boats  of 
twenty  guns  each,  and  about  thirty  gunboats  well  armed. 

There  were  in  the  harbour  sixteen  sail  of  the  line  and 


A  Little  Fun  and  a  Little  Fighting.      147 

twenty  frigates.  So  that  on  the  whole  the  Danes  were 
capable  of  an  excellent  defence,  and,  to  give  them  their 
due,  they  made  the  best  of  it. 

Who  fired  the  first  shot  ?  The  answer  is  :  the  Danes 
did  actually  fire  the  first  shot  aimed  to  kill.  And  here  is 
how  it  happened.  One  of  their  frigates,  the  Frederichs- 
coarn,  that  lay  at  Elsinore  when  we  arrived  there,  tried 
to  slip  away  on  the  night  of  the  12th,  and  started  for 
Norway,  where,  by  the  way,  two  of  the  Danish  sail  of 
the  line  were  lying.  But  next  day  Admiral  Gambier  sent 
two  ships  in  pursuit,  the  Defence  and  the  Comus,  to 
capture  the  frigate  in  a  friendly  way,  as  it  were. 

Well,  the  Comus  was  the  best  sailer,  and  overhauling 
the  Dane  on  the  14th,  about  midnight,  her  captain,  whose 
name  was  Heywood,  politely  requested  the  captain  of 
the  Dane  to  hand  over  his  ship. 

Now,  the  Frederickscoarn  was  far  larger  than  the 
Comus,  so  the  reply  of  her  captain — and  I  do  not  blame 
the  man — was  that  he  would  see  Heywood  and  all  his 
crew  at  Hong-Kong  first.  Then  Heywood  fired  a 
musket  across  the  Dane's  hawse;  and  that  began  the 
fun,  for  the  Dane  retaliated,  firing  point-blank  from  her 
stern-guns  at  the  plucky  Comus. 

For  three-quarters  of  an  hour  both  ships  now  went  at  it 
pell-mell  and  minus  mercy;  then  an  event  happened  which, 
though  unlooked-for,  quite  suited  the  Comus.  The  Dane 
was  disabled  as  to  her  rigging,  and  missing  stays  during 
one  of  her  evolutions,  came  rasping  alongside  the  Bri- 
tisher. 


148  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  Lieutenants  Watts  and  Knight, 
both  in  one  breath.  "  Follow  your  leader,  lads  !  " 

Next  minute,  followed  by  a  portion  of  the  crew,  they 
had  boarded  the  big  Frederickscoarn,  and  most  gallantly, 
sword  in  hand,  took  her  by  storm. 

About  half-way  betwixt  Elsinore  and  Copenhagen  lies 
in  a  bay  the  village  of  Wedbeck,  and  here  a  portion  of 
the  troops  were  landed,  and  the  fleet  went  on  to  Copenha- 
gen itself,  where  the  admiral  made  known  his  intentions. 

To  show  their  independence,  the  Danes  seized  and 
burned  an  English  merchant  ship,  and  fired  on  our 
pickets  with  round  shot  and  grape  from  their  gunboats. 
These  were  forced  to  retreat  however. 

Fighting  now  became  general  until  the  23rd,  the 
enemy  doing  all  in  their  power  to  prevent  us  from  con- 
structing mortar  batteries  on  shore. 

The  fight  on  the  23rd,  between  the  Danish  flotilla  and 
ours,  was  almost  a  drawn  battle,  both  sides  having  suffered 
rather  severely. 

Skirmishing  went  on  almost  every  day,  up  to  the 
1st  of  Setember.  Zealand  was  surrounded  entirely  by 
a  portion  of  our  fleet,  and  it  becoming  known  that 
the  French,  who  occupied  Stralsund,  would  attempt  to 
relieve  it,  that  port  was  also  blockaded  by  Commodore 
Keats. 

On  the  whole  the  British  had  all  their  work  cut  out, 
and  were  very  busy  indeed. 

Willie  Grant  received  his  baptism  of  fire,  for  several 
men  were  wounded  and  one  killed  almost  close  to  where 


A  Little  Fun  and  a  Little  Fighting.      149 

he  stood.  Josh  was  as  cool  as  a  frosted  cucumber,  and 
seemed  to  think  no  more  of  the  battle  and  continued 
fighting  than  if  it  had  been  a  snowball  engagement  in 
Glengair.  The  game  cock  crew  defiance  at  every  shot; 
the  Skye  terrier  went  wandering  and  wondering  about, 
but  the  great  Newfoundland  went  down  below  and  hid 
in  a  locker. 

The  Danish  major-general,  whose  name  was  Peirnan, 
was  now  called  upon  to  surrender,  in  much  the  same 
high-handed,  haughty  way  that  castles  were  summoned  in 
the  days  of  chivalry,  and  returned  much  the  same  answer 
that  knights  of  old  used  to  give. 

So  on  the  2nd  of  September,  the  batteries  being  all 
completed,  the  dreadful  bombardment  commenced,  and 
by  night  and  by  day  continued  almost  unremittingly  till 
the  evening  of  the  5th.  Probably  it  was  on  the  4th 
that  the  firing  was  at  its  fiercest  and  the  mischief  done 
the  most.  Then  the  steeple  of  the  great  church  fell  and 
spread  the  flames  in  every  direction,  the  Danish  firemen 
were  slain  and  their  engines  destroyed,  and  the  timber 
yard  was  set  in  a  blaze  by  red-hot  shot.  Fancy,  if  you 
can,  reader,  what  horror  and  misery  all  this  entailed  on  the 
unfortunate  inhabitants,  through  no  fault  of  theirs  !  The 
whole  city  in  a  blaze,  the  smoke  and  flames  rolling  far  to 
leeward,  the  constant  roar  of  guns,  the  shrieks  and  cries  of 
the  wounded  and  groans  of  the  dying  !  No  wonder  that 
the  Danish  Government  begged  at  last  for  an  armistice, 
and  that  though  it  was  not  granted,  yet  in  very  mercy 
Gambier  stopped  the  firing. 


150  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

War  is  glorious  !  Yes,  but  war  is  very  terrible  !  It 
goes  against  my  grain  to  describe  such  scenes  as 
occurred  at  the  bombardment  and  burning  of  the  Danish 
capital.  Let  me  cease  to  write  of  it  then,  merely  adding 
that  this  bold  undertaking  and  siege  was  perfectly 
successful,  and  that  the  great  fleet  of  Denmark,  that  was 
intended  to  aid  in  landing  a  foreign  foe  on  our  eastern 
chores,  was  partly  destroyed  and  partly  requisitioned,  and 
that  nearly  one  hundred  transports  were  required  to  bear 
the  "  loot,"  in  the  shape  of  naval  stores,  to  the  shores  of 
"  merrie"  England. 

We  cannot  help  sighing  when  we  think  that  about  two 
thousand  innocent  men,  women,  and  children  fell  victims 
to  the  bombardment ;  but  even  this  sacrifice  is  but  a  flea- 
bite  compared  to  the  terrible  slaughter,  the  sacking  and 
rapine  that  would  have  taken  place  in  our  peaceful 
towns  and  villages,  had  the  craft  of  the  French  suc- 
ceeded in  letting  loose  among  us  all  the  savagery  of  a 
foreign  foe. 

May  the  day  be  far  distant  that  witnesses  so  awful  a 
calamity  to  the  happy  homes  of  England  ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

"l   WILL   GIVE    MY   SWORD   TO   PRANCE!  " 

"  I  SIMPLY  wait  for  your  command. 

Is  it  peace  or  is  it  war  ? 
Shall  we  quarrel,  or  shake  hands,  sir? 
Which,  good  Signor,  are  you  for  ?  " 

—Dibdin. 

NE  bright,  beautiful  day,  some  weeks 
before  the  fall  of  Copenhagen,  several 
languid-looking  young  gentlemen  stood 
by  the  window  of  an  admiralty  office  that 
looked  over  the  Thames.  The  river  was  just  a  trifle 
less  dark  and  muddy  then  than  it  is  now,  and  a  trifle 
less  crowded.  But  it  flowed  along  quite  as  quietly  and 
quite  as  sullenly,  and  probably  held  concealed  beneath 
its  murky  bosom  almost  as  many  dreadful  secrets  as  it 
does  to-day  and  will  a  hundred  years  hence. 

But  the  sun  was  shining  gaily,  there  were  white  and 
fleecy  clouds  in  the  blue  sky,  and  even  the  twittering 
sparrows  looked  more  happy  in  consequence. 

The  young  gentlemen  were  clerks.  I  dare  say  they 
had  something  to  do  at  their  desks,  but  I  am  perfectly 

151 


152  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


sure  they  were  not  doing  it.  One  was  chewing  the 
feather  end  of  his  quill,  another  was  picking  his  teeth 
with  the  point  of  his  pen,  and  a  third  paring  his  nails. 

"What  a  marvellous  fine  day ! "  said  one;  "Fred, 
wouldn't  I  like  to  be  in  the  country  ?  " 

"Yes,  out  shooting,  eh  ?  " 

"  Or  sailing  in  a  boat  off  Margate." 

"  Or  bathing  on  the  sandy  beach." 

"  Or  walking  with  a  lovely  girl,  and  whispering  soft 
nothings  in  her  indulgent  ear/' 

They  did  not  hear  the  knock  at  the  door,  and  turned 
round  just  in  time  to  see  one  of  the  porters  advancing 
towards  them  accompanied  by  a  bright-looking  boy,  with 
dark  eyes,  and  fairly  well  dressed. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  porter,  touching  his 
hair,  "but  this  young  gent  says  as  how  he  wants  to  see 
one  of  the  lords-commissioners. 

The  man  smiled. 

The  clerks  burst  out  laughing. 

"Well,  little  boy,"  exclaimed  one,  "you've  got  a 
cheek.  Do  you  come  from  Wolffe  the  tailor  ?  " 

Dem,  for  it  was  he,  got  red  with  anger.  He  felt  shy 
when  he  first  came  in;  all  diffidence  fled  at  once  on 
being  so  rudely  addressed. 

"  Sir/'  he  replied,  "  I  suppose  you  are  clerks,  but  you 
are  not  gentlemen.  My  father,  the  general,  had  a  hun- 
dred such  as  you  in  his  office  in  India,  and  I've  seen 
them  flogged  round  the  yard  with  a  bamboo  cane." 

"Ha!  ha!  he!"  and   "Ho!   ho!    ho!"  roared   the 


"I  will  give  my  Sword  to  France!"     153 

clerks,  who  were  determined  not  to  be  cowed;  but  one 
asked  at  length, — 

"  Who  is  your  father  ?  " 

"General  Rutherford." 

A  list  was  produced  and  speedily  referred  to  ;  then  the 
boy  got  a  little  more  civility,  and  as  one  of  the  lords 
really  was  in,  his  request  to  see  him  was  grumblingly 
taken,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Dem  was  ushered  through 
double  and  baize- covered  doors  into  a  large,  silent  room, 
where  at  a  broad  table  sat  writing  a  pleasant-faced, 
white-haired  old  man. 

He  received  Dem  kindly  enough,  and  listened  to  his 
story ;  he  even  said  that  he  had  heard  of  his  father,  but 
laughed  outright  when  Dem  told  him  boldly  that  he  had 
come  to  place  his  sword  and  his  services  at  the  disposal 
of  the  Lords-Commissioners  of  the  Admiralty. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  he  said  at  last,  "you  have  no  one  to 
nominate  you ;  so  take  my  advice,  go  home  and  go  to 
school." 

Dem  started  up. 

"  I  have  no  home  !  "  he  cried,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
"  no  home  but  the  wide  world.  You  refuse  my  offer. 
You  laugh  at  me,  and  your  low  clerks  insult  me.  I  had 
thought  I  would  serve  you  as  a  gentleman,  or  go  before 
the  mast.  Now,  I'll  do  neither.  I  hate  you  all.  I'll  go 
to  France." 

The  old  man  smiled,  for  the  life  of  him  he  could  not 
help  it. 

Dem  turned,  stamped  on  the  floor,  and,  "  I  will  give 


154  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

my  sword  to  France  !  "  he  said  majestically,  then  strode 
out  and  away  along  the  corridors  and  down  the  broad 
staircase.  The  porter  who  had  shown  him.  up  touched  his 
hat  to  the  general's  son.  He  pressed  a  rupee  into  the 
man's  non-reluctant  hand,  and  walked  on, — on  across  the 
big  yard  and  out  at  the  gates.  Then  he  was  swallowed 
up  in  the  crowd,  lost  from  our  gaze  in  the  great  world 
of  London. 


The  Castile,  as  I  call  her,  had  been  in  the  thick  of  the 
fight  from  the  very  first  hour  action  had  commenced. 
The  Danes,  it  must  be  admitted,  fought  well  and  nobly, 
and  only  succumbed  at  last  to  strength  and  superior  tact. 
The  mortars  used  by  the  enemy  were  of  the  largest  sort, 
and  many  of  the  guns  were  arms  of  great  precision  and 
force,  while  the  gunners  themselves  succeeded  in  making 
good  practice. 

To  say  that  the  Castile  was  riddled  would  be  somewhat 
wide  of  the  truth,  but  she  received  many  shot  holes,  and 
some  in  the  water  line,  and  she  had  several  men 
wounded ;  so  that  on  the  voyage  home,  not  only  had  the 
doctors  plenty  to  do,  but  the  men  as  well.  There  was 
more  pumping  to  be  done  in  every  watch  than  had  ever 
been  performed  in  a  floating  frigate  before  to  my  know- 
ledge. The  simple  plugging  of  a  shot  hole  does  not 
always  serve  to  keep  the  water  out.  This  would  do  if  a 
cannon  ball  passed  clean  and  sweet  through  the  timber 
as  a  rifle  bullet  would  through  a  bar  of  soap ;  but  it  does 


"I  will  give  my  Sword  to  France!"      155 

not,  but  shivers  the  wood-work  and  timbers  around  it  as 
often  as  not. 

However,  the  frigate  arrived  safe  and  sound  at  the 
Downs,  and  was  sent  from  there  round  to  Portsmouth  to 
be  seen  to. 

A  gale  of  wind  was  encountered  off  Dungeness  which 
almost  put  an  end  to  the  Castile  altogether.  It  was  not  a 
lee  shore,  however ;  so  after  scudding  for  four-and-twenty 
hours  under  all  but  bare  poles,  they  weared  ship,  and  in 
due  time  got  into  harbour,  sadly  battered  as  to  bulwarks 
and  wholly  boatless,  with  ragged  sails  and  rigging,  and 
one  splintered  stick  standing  up  where  a  foremast  should 
have  been. 

The  inhabitants  of  Portsmouth  received  the  heroes 
with  open  arms.  They  were  madly  merry  in  their 
welcome.  Ah  !  England  dearly  loves  her  sailor  lads, 
Britannia  doats  upon  Jack. 

First  came  Saturday  night.  It  was  not  what  you 
might  call  Saturday  night  at  sea,  but  it  was  kept  very 
like  it,  for  the  Castile  having  come  in  on  Friday  night, 
and  as  no  leave  was  to  be  given  for  some  days,  Jack's 
shore  friends  had  been  allowed  to  come  off  next  forenoon, 
so  Jack  was  happy.  Next  came  a  quiet  and  blessed 
Sunday,  and  soon  after  pay-day. 

How  in  all  the  world  did  those  bumboat  people  and 
Jews  and  slop-merchants  find  out  that  Wednesday  was 
pay-day,  I  wonder  ?  Well,  news  leaks  out  o£  a  ship  just 
as  water  leaks  in.  So  there  they  were,  in  hundreds, 
surrounding  the  poor  Castile,  every  one  wanting  to  sell 


156  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Jack  or  the  junior  officers  something.  Of  course  some 
good  ladies  had  come  for  the  gentlemen's  washing,  and 
to  supply  them  with  fresh  provisions  and  vegetables, 
fruit,  and  what  not. 

Now  towards  afternoon,  on  this  particular  day,  the 
Castilo  being  then  in  charge  of  Mr.  Buchanan,  the  second 
lieutenant,  the  only  officer  above  the  gunroom  on  board, 
and  he  being  in  his  cabin  discussing  a  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne with  a  shore  friend,  the  decks  and  the  down-below 
of  this  fine  frigate  presented  a  very  motley  appearance 
indeed. 

To  repel  boarders,  the  gunroom  fellows  had  spent  no 
end  of  money  in  stale  eggs,  they  had  also  rigged  the 
fire  hose ;  but  they  got  tired  of  this,  for  the  shore  people 
clambered  in  through  the  ports  and  over  the  bows  as 
well. 

Things  were  getting  tiresome.  It  was  very  jolly  for 
Jack,  for  Jack  was  merry  and  singing,  dancing  and 
shouting  and  spending  his  money,  or  giving  it  away  as 
cheerfully  as  if  he  had  not  risked  his  brave  life  to  win  it. 

"  I  say,"  said  the  Hon.  de  Grey,  addressing  Willie,  for 
the  two  boys  had  become  very  friendly.  "  I  say,  Grant, 
I've  got  an  idea." 

"  You  never  want  one,"  said  Willie,  smiling. 

"  Now,  I'm  going  to  clear  this  ship  in  ten  minutes  of 
that  rubbishy  crew  of  shore  folks." 

"  Bravo  !  " 

Off  went  Dick-Rae  to  see  Mr.  Buchanan.  He  said 
something  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  at  which  this  officer 


"I  will  give  my  Sword  to  France!"      157 

laughed  and  stammered,  for  he  had  a  sad  defect  in  his 
speech. 

"Did-did-do  as  you  la-la-like  then,  but  be  ca-ca- 
canny." 

I  may  add  that  Buchanan  was  a  Scot. 

"  I'll  be  canny,"  said  this  mischievous  middy,  and  away 
he  went. 

He  called  the  boVn  on  the  quarter-deck,  the  master-at- 
arms,  long  Tom  Thumb,  the  other  officers  of  the  gunroom, 
and  a  few  more  petty  and  warrant  officers. 

It  was  a  kind  of  a  council  of  war,  though  from  the 
laughing  and  joking  that  resounded  therefrom  a  byo- 
stander  would  hardly  have  thought  so.  In  a  few  minutes 
after  the  boVn's  pipe  re-echoed  fore  and  aft. 

Eee-pee-peepee-peepee-peepee-pee-ee  !  went  the  pipe. 

"  Hands  to  the  pumps  !  " 

"  Marines  on  deck  !  " 

The  pumps  were  speedily  started  and  the  water  went 
washing  through  the  spouts,  falling  unceremoniously  into 
the  boats  beneath.  The  marines  had  their  orders  given 
them  in  a  whisper,  and  were  stationed  round  bulwarks 
and  bows  and  at  the  companions,  with  fixed  bayonets. 

For  so  small  an  officer,  young  Dick-Rae's  voice  was  a 
marvel.  It  sounded  like  thunder,  and  sent  a  thrill  of 
fear  through  every  heart  on  the  lower  deck,  when  he 
stood  on  the  last  steps  of  the  ladder  and  shouted, — 

"  Now  then,  listen ;  all  the  women  folks  are  to  get  into 
the  boats  at  once  and  without  confusion,  then  the  shore 
men.  The  marines  have  strict  orders  to  shoot  or  bayonet 


158  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

any  man  who  attempts  to  leave  the  ship  till  the  women 
are  safe.  And— she  is  sinlting  !  " 

A  live  hissing  shell  alighting  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd 
during  a  bombardment,  or  the  cry  of  "  Fire !  "  in  a 
crowded  church  never  created  greater  confusion  than  did 
the  words  of  this  midshipmite.  First  there  was  a  sound, 
half  a  shriek,  and  half  a  mournful,  whining  moan,  and 
next  a  rush  for  the  ladders. 

High  over  the  din  once  more  rose  Dick-Kae's  voice. 

"  Now,  the  women  first,  and  no  crowding  !  " 

Among  the  crew  it  was  pretty  well  known  that  there 
was  no  danger  as  far  as  sinking  went.  The  only  danger 
rose  from  the  over- crowding  to  the  gangways.  This  the 
young  officers  and  the  men  did  their  best  to  prevent,  but 
the  shoremen,  especially  the  Jewish  class,  would  press 
forward  among  the  women  folks. 

And  they  caught  it  in  consequence,  for  Jack  had  many 
an  old  score  to  pay  off,  and  many  a  grudge  against  some 
of  those  rascals  who  used  to  rob  the  sailor  lad  of  his 
hardly  earned  wages.  So  now  they  were  pulled  back 
most  unceremoniously,  and  if  they  dared  to  advance 
again,  then  down  they  went,  some  with  loosened  teeth 
and  some  with  crimsoned  noses. 

Lieutenant  Buchanan  and  his  friend  stood  by  the 
biuacle  and  enjoyed  the  fun  to  the  utmost. 

But  it  must  be  recorded  that  the  whole  affair  was  con- 
ducted in  a  most  careful  way,  as  far  as  the  junior  officers 
were  concerned.  The  women  were  passed  down  the 
broad  starboard  ladder  two  and  two,  and  there  were 


"I  will  give  my  Sword  to  France!"       159 

sailoi-s  waiting  at  the  foot  to  receive  them.  As  soon  as 
one  boat  was  filled,  off  it  was  shoved  and  another  took 
its  place  ;  and  so  on  until  every  woman  was  afloat.  Then 
the  men  were  allowed  to  go  down,  many  carried  their 
baskets  and  bundles  and  boxes,  and  everything  left  below 
was  brought  up  and  most  unceremoniously  handed  over 
the  side  or  thrown  into  any  boat. 

When  the  last  man  had  got  in  and  off,  and  the  last 
bundle  was  thrown  over,  the  scene  in  those  boats  which, 
though  at  some  distance,  hovered  around  the  Castile  was 
one  that  never  could  be  forgotten. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  a  party  that  once  took  place  in 
an  out-lying  county  of  the  States,  to  which  not  only  did 
mothers  come  from  a  long  distance,  but  brought  their 
babies.  The  story  describes  how,  when  these  blessed 
little  infants  were  all  placed  in  beds  or  on  the  floor  in 
one  room,  and  just  as  the  dancing  and  fun  had  waxed 
fast  and  furious,  some  "  wanton  wags,"  as  Burns  would 
call  them,  went  and  changed  the  children's  dresses,  one 
with  the  other.  In  the  grey  light  of  early  dawn,  each 
lady  took  the  baby  that  was  like  hers,  going  more  by 
dress  than  by  physiognomy;  the  discovery,  when  it  did 
come— after  their  mammas  had  got  home — must  have 
been  appalling.  I  can  fancy  I  hear  the  wail  of  the  poor 
mothers  just  then. 

"  Where  is  my  Jeannie,  this  is  a  boy  ?  "  or,  "  Where  is 
my  Johnnie,  this  is  a  thing  of  a  girl  ?  "  "  My  daughter  ! 
0  my  daughter !  " 

But  the  principal  shout  that  arose  from  those  strangely 


160  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

mixed  crews  and  shore  boats  was,  not  "  My  daughter  ! 

0  my  daughter  !  "  but  "  My  basket !  O  my  basket !  "  or 
"  My  bundle  !  0  my  bundle  !  " 

Not  a  soul  was  in  his  own  or  her  own  boat  apparently. 
The  women  were  crying  about  their  eggs  and  sugar  and 
cabbages,  the  Jews  were  wringing  their  hands  and 
shrieking, — 

"  I  vas  ruined  !  I  vas  ruined  !  " 

"  Vat  ish  life  to  me  now  ?     I  ish  ruined  for  evermore  ! 

1  ish  ruined  !  I  ish  ruined  !  " 

But  the  means  at  my  disposal  in  the  shape  of  pens, 
iuk,  paper,  and  descriptive  power  are  quite  inadequate 
to  do  justice  to  the  scene  of  excitement  and  confusion,  so 
I  shall  take  the  playwright's  plan  of  treatment  under 
similar  difficulties,  and  drop  the  curtain. 

Pumping  was  now  suspended  for  a  time  on  board  the 
Castile.  Indeed,  no  one  could  do  anything  for  laughing, 
either  officers  or  men. 

Lieutenant  Buchanan,  who  was  brighter  in  the  eye 
after  the  champagne,  and  redder  in  the  face,  than  be- 
comes an  officer  on  duty, — shook  little  Dick-Rae  by  the 
hand,  and  stammered  : 

"  Mr.  de  Grey,  you're  a  r-r-real  bri-bri-brick  of  a 
chap.  So  you  are,  and  I  hope  you'll  la-la-live  to  be 
an  admiral." 

Long  Tom  was  now  observed  to  be  very  busy,  and 
presently  he  advanced  to  the  fore  part  of  the  quarter, 
touched  his  hat  to  Mr.  Buchanan,  and  said,  "  They  want 
to  know  at  the  port  admiral's  office  what  is  amiss  ?  " 


"I  will  give  my  Sword  to  France!"      161 

"  Tell  them/'  was  the  reply,  "  we've  been  cak-cak- 
clearing  the  ship  of  the  bub-bub-bumboat  crew." 

Long  Tom  Thumb  looked  puzzled. 

"  I  hardly  know,"  he  said,  scratching  a  thoughtful 
poll,  "  how  to  make  that  precisely." 

"Well,"  said  the  lieutenant,  "just  d-d-d-do  as  you 
please." 

So  away  aft  went  Tom,  and  the  signal  he  made  read 
as  follows : 

"  Boarded  by  the  enemy  in  force  from  the  shore.  All 
hands  cleared  ship.  All's  well." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"A  MAN'S  A  MAN  FOR  A'  THAT." 

DEAR  land  of  my  birth,  of  my  friends,  of  my  love, 
Shall  I  never  again  climb  thy  mountains, 

Xor  wander  at  eve  through  the  lone  leafy  grove 
To  list  to  the  dash  of  thy  fountains  ?  " 

— Frascr, 

"  BEHOLD  the  dinner  in  array, 

A  column  it  appears  ; 
While  pyramids  of  whips  display 
A  corps  of  grenadiers  ?  " 

—Dibdin, 

ERE  it  not  my  humble  endeavour  to  de- 
scribe— as  near  to  the  truth  as  possible — 
life  in  navy  ships  in  the  old  days,  the  very 
word  ' '  grog  "  would  never  appear  on  my 
pages.  Things  have  changed  very  much  for  the  better 
in  the  service  since  then,  and  an  officer  now  who  over- 
indulged in  wine,  were  he  the  highest  in  the  land  or  on 
the  sea,  would  soon  find  himself  placed  on  permanent 
half-play,  if  indeed  his  name  were  permitted  to  remain 
on  the  list  at  all. 


"A  Man's  a  Man  for  a1  That."          163 

Touching  bold  Lieutenant  Buchanan  then,  being  a 
countryman  of  my  own,  I  must  not  be  too  hard  on  him ; 
but  in  justice  to  my  narrative,  I  am  compelled  to  state 
that  while  his  motto  was  not  "  Bibo,  semper  bibo,"  he 
seemed  at  times  really  to  have  the  cacoethes  bibendi. 

But — I  am  glad  to  add — only  when  off  duty,  and  never 
in  a  sly  or  sottish  manner.  He  was  a  worthy  fellow 
nevertheless,  though,  belonging  as  he  did  to  a  nation 
from  which  feudalism  had  not  yet  quite  departed,  he  was 
apt  to  flatter  and  be  fond  of  people  high  in  rank — lords 
and  such.  Scotland  is  different  now. 

Buchanan  had  a  history.  He  had  left  home,  after 
thrashing  his  schoolmaster,  with  a  liberal  education, 
especially  in  the  matter  of  Latin  and  Greek,  and  five 
bawbees  *  in  his  trouser  pocket,  entered  the  service 
before  the  mast,  and  fought  his  way  on  to  the  quarter- 
deck. 

He  had  a  bold,  bright  face,  a  brawny  arm,  and  a  leg 
that  measured  sixteen  inches  round  the  calf.  He  had 
been  in  many  a  battle,  and  could  show  cutlass  scars  and 
bullet  marks  enough  to  prove  him  a  hero.  Besides,  he 
had  once  led  a  forlorn  hope,  and  was  just  about  being 
buried  with  the  dead  next  day.  Two  of  his  brother 
officers  stood  by  his  side,  looking  down  on  him  for  a  time 
in  mournful  silence. 

"  As  brave  a  fellow  as  ever  swung  a  sword,"  said  one 
at  length. 

*  Five  bawbees  =  twopence-halfpenny. 


164  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

" '  Sic  transit  gloria  mundi,'  "  said  the  other.  "  Men, 
proceed  with  the  work  and  bury  this  poor  officer." 

"So,"  he  continued,  "Buchanan  led  a  sailor's  life, 
but  you  see  he  must  fill  a  soldier's  grave.  Heigho  !  " 

The  men  began  to  move  the  body,  when  brave 
Buchanan  opened  his  eyes  and  his  lips  were  seen  to 
move. 

"A  soldier's  ga-ga-grave  be  shot!"  he  stammered; 
"  you  might  let  a  fellow  be  dead  first." 

Both  the  officers  had  turned  their  backs  and  gone 
sadly  away  before  Buchanan  spoke.  But  Paddy  Flint, 
who  was  in  command  of  the  funeral  party,  and  who  had 
staggered  back  as  if  stunned  when  the  supposed-to-be- 
dead  officer  spoke,  ran  after  them, — 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  <f  but  shure, 
I  don't  think  the  lieutenant  is  dead  at  all." 

"  What !     What  makes  you  think  so,  Flint  ?  " 

"Becos  sorr  he  asked  for  a  dhrop  o*  the  crature. 
Now,  sir,  if  he'd  been  dead  entirely,  d'ye  think " 

Both  officers  listened  no  more  to  Paddy's  logic,  but 
hurried  off  back  to  their  messmate.  He  was  tenderly 
carried  on  board,  and  'in  six  weeks  time  was  doing  his 
duty. 


As  the  Castile  had  now  to  undergo  a  good  deal  of 
repair  about  her  hull,  she  was  listed  considerably  to  port, 
which  made  it  somewhat  uncomfortable  for  those  living 
on  board.  The  junior  officers,  therefore,  were  greatly 


"A  Man's  a  Man  for  a*  That."         165 

pleased  to  be  allowed  to  once  more  take  up  their 
quarters  in  the  hulk. 

Buchanan  and  Dr.  Curver  were  invited  to  dinner  there 
one  evening.  Both  men  were  very  great  favourites.  As 
we  have  already  seen,  Curver  was  exceedingly  fond  of 
boys,  whether  officers  or  not,  which  only  proves  he  was  a 
boy  himself  at  heart. 

"  Now,"  said  young  Dick-Rae  at  breakfast  one  morning 
a  week  before  the  party,  "  I  move  that  we  do  this  dinner 
in  proper  style.  What  do  you  say,  Hunt,  or  you, 
Dance?" 

"Most  certainly,"  said  both. 

"  Decidedly,  I  should  say,"  from  Smart. 

"  You're  only  a  youngster  !  " 

"  And  what  are  you  Dick-Rae,  pray  ?  " 

"  A  man  !  " 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  " 

"  Shut  up,  Smart,"  said  Hunt,  "  or  I'll  box  your  ears. 
Now,  I  think  you'd  better  be  master  of  the  ceremonies 
yourself,  Mr.  De  Grey." 

"  Right !  I  will ;  and  my  friend,  Willie  Grant,  shall  be 
my  coadjutor.  We  will  want  a  fund  though,  a  list  will 
be  put  on  the  table  to-day,  and  every  one  can  give 
according  to  his  means.  Is  that  fair  ?  " 

"  Yes,  very  fair." 

"  Is  that  motion  seconded  ?  " 

"  I  second  it,"  cried  Willie. 

"  Any  one  got  anything  to  say  against  it.  One — 
two — three — speak  now,  or  for  ever  after  hold  thy 


166  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

peace.  Not  a  dissentient  voice.  Bravo  !  Carried  unani- 
mously." 

After  breakfast,  Willie  and  Dick-Rae  went  ashore, 
having  no  watch  to  keep  till  evening. 

"  I  think,"  said  the  latter,  "I  managed  that  nicely.  You 
see,  there  isn't  a  fellow  in  our  mess  has  such  an  allowance 
of  pocket-money  as  I  have,  but  I  wouldn't  hurt  their 
feelings  by  putting  down  more  than  they;  only  I'm  not 
limited,  you  know,  so  my  name  shall  be  last  on  the  list. 
Don't  you  tell,  mon  ami  Grant;  I'm  going  to  put  10**.  in 
the  shillings  column,  and  I  can  afterwards  put  what  I  like 
in  the  pounds  column.  D'ye  see,  little  boy  ?  " 

Willie  Grant  laughed,  and  then  lapsed  into  thoughtful- 
ness.  He  was  thinking  what  a  fine  thing  it  is  to  have 
money.  He  gave  a  bit  of  a  sigh. 

"  I  know  what  you're  musing  about,  Will,  my  lad." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  You're  thinking  it  is  nice  to  be  rich.  Now,  I'm  only 
a  little  chap,  but  I  know  a  good  deal ;  and  I  tell  you, 
Willie  Grant,  that  nice  and  all  as  it  is  to  have  money 
given  you,  it  is  ten  times  nicer  to  make  it  with  your  own 
brains  and  hands.  That's  my  opinion,  Willie  Grant." 

"  You  ought  to  have  been  a  parson,  Dick-Rae." 

"A  parson?  No,  I'm  not  good  enough,  and  far  too 
fond  of  fun." 

"There  isn't  much  harm  with  your  fun  though." 

"  Oh,  isn't  there  !  You  haven't  seen  the  half  of  it 
yet." 

The    gunroom    dinner-party    came    round,    and    the 


"A  Man's  a  Man  for  a'   That."         167 

' '  spread,"  as  Smart  called  it,  was  "  elegant."  Dick-Rae 
had  the  whole  interior  of  the  mess  berth  lined  with  the 
flags  of  all  nations ;  and  very  pretty  it  looked.  Here  and 
there  all  round  were  bunches  of  glittering  bayonets,  with 
candles,  nicely  arranged.  The  table-cloth  and  all  thereon 
was  perfection.  The  dinner  was  good,  made  on  shore, 
and  served  by  shore  waiters. 

There  was  no  band  on  the  Castile,  or  they  would  have 
borrowed  it;  but  during  and  after  dinner  there  was 
sweet,  soft  music  discoursed  by  stringed  instruments 
hired  on  shore,  with  one  or  two  clarionets  and  a  flute. 

So  the  whole  affair  passed  off  most  delightfully.  Bucha- 
nan was  in  the  third  heaven,  and  Dr.  Curver  kept  every 
one  laughing  with  his  quiet,  humorous  remarks  and  his 
quaint  and  funny  anecdotes.  The  doctor  possessed  that 
rarest  of  gifts  in  a  good  conversationalist,  the  power  to 
draw  out  others,  and  without  their  knowing  it  positively 
suggest  witticisms ;  so  that  even  Smart,  who,  albeit  his 
name,  was  admitted  by  all  the  mess  to  be  the  dullest  in 
it,  found  himself  for  once  a  wit. 

Plain  Jack  Williams,  alias  Old  Benbow,  was  in  fine  form 
that  night.  Fact  is  he  had  seen  Julia  in  the  forenoon ; 
so  he  not  only  told  droll  yarns,  but  even  volunteered  a 
song. 

After  dinner  came  a  dance.  Then  away  went  the 
guests,  and  by-and-by  all  who  had  no  watches  to  keep 
were  snugly  asleep  in  their  hammocks. 


163  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

About  a  week  after  this,  Buchanan  communicated  to 
Dick-Rae  and  Willie  the  fact  that  he  had  been  invited 
to  the  house  of  a  countryman  to  spend  the  evening,  and 
wanted  to  take  them.  He  would  drive  them  over  with 
his  own  trap. 

Yes;  Buchanan  kept  a  horse  when  in  harbour,  or  as 
he  called  it,  "  a  cow." 

His  "cow's"  name  was  Jean,  and  when  this  Scotch 
lieutenant  was  at  sea,  Jean  lived  at  his  friend's 
farm. 

Willie  and  Dick-Rae  were  delighted ;  so  when  the  night 
came  round,  Jean  was  put  into  the  dog-cart,  and  off  they 
rattled.  It  was  a  lonesome  sort  of  a  drive,  for  the 
country  round  Portsmouth  was  not  then  peopled  as  it  is 
now. 

However,  they  got  to  the  farm  safe  and  sound  at  last, 
and  received  a  true  Highland  welcome.  There  were 
other  Scotchmen  there — strange  how  they  always  do 
meet,  and  how  they  ferret  each  other  out,  even  in  foreign 
lands ! — so  that  what  with  music,  songs,  supper  and 
dancing,  it  turned  out  to  be  what  might  be  called,  "  A 
nicht  wi'  Burns." 

And  long  though  the  nights  were  now — it  was  the 
dreary  month  of  November, — these  hardy  northeners  kept 
up  the  fun  till  far  into  the  morning.  Then  a  second 
supper,  or  rather  breakfast,  appeared  on  the  table,  at 
which  both  Dick-Rae  and  Willie  rejoiced,  their  eyes 
having  nearly  given  up  duty.  But  the  tea  revived  them, 
and  they  felt  like  giants  refreshed. 


"A  Man's  a  Man  for  a'  That."         169 


Well,  our  midshipmen  had  not  indulged  in  the  wine 
of  Caledonia,  but  Buchanan  had. 

tf  Shall  we  go  and  get  the  horse  in  now  ?  "  said  Dick- 
Rae  to  him  at  last. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply;  "nobody  puts  a  hand  on  my 
Jean's  harness  but  her  master." 

It  may  be  observed  that  the  worthy  lieutenant  got 
clear  of  this  sentence  without  stammering.  This  was  a 
strange  thing,  but  true,  namely,  that  after  a  few  glasses  of 
wine  the  nervous  affection  of  speech  quite  left  him. 

"  My  Jean,  my  Jean,  my  boniiie  Jean  !  "  he  began  to 
sing. 

"Well,"  said  Dick-Rae  boldly,  "it's  time  to  be  off." 

"  Right  you  are,  my  boys.     Let  us  say  farewell." 

Farewells — as  far  as  the  middies  were  concerned — were 
soon  concluded.  But  Buchanan  took  longer  time  to 
them ;  parting  seemed  such  sweet  sorrow. 

Dick-Ray  pinched  Willie's  arm,  and  they  both  slipped 
away  out. 

"That  tea  has  made  me  as  lively  as  a  cricket-bat, 
Willie  Grant.  Let's  have  some  fun." 

"  What  will  we  do  ?  " 

"  Let  me  think.     Oh  !  yes,  I  have  it.     Follow  me." 

Now  Buchanan  had  carefully  stabled  his  steed — bonnie 
Jean — in  an  out-house  all  by  herself,  and  bedded  her 
well.  Near  this  place  was  the  byre,  or  cow-house,  and 
into  this  the  lads  now  went,  and  led  forth  a  huminel- 
cooie,*  exactly  Jean's  size  and  colour,  and  this  animal 
*  Hummel-cooie  =  hornless  cow. 


170  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

was  duly  installed  in  the  mare's  place,  while  she  was  tied 
up  in  the  byre. 

It  was  barely  daylight  when  Buchanan  inarched  into 
the  stable  and  proceeded  to  business,  while  the  artful 
middies  stood  in  the  doorway,  and  behind  them 
Buchanan's  friends,  who  had  now  been  let  into  the  secret. 

"  Wae,  my  lassie  !  Wae,  my  bonnie  Jean  !  "  said 
Buchanan. 

Thinking  perhaps  he  had  something  to  give  her,  the 
cow  licked  his  hand. 

This  display  of  what  the  lieutenant  took  for  his  pony's 
love  for  him,  so  affected  Buchanan  that  he  must  needs 
come  to  the  door,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes  tell  his 
friends  about  it. 

Then  he  got  the  bridle  and  put  it  over  the  cow's  head, 
and  tried  to  force  the  bit  into  her  slobbery  mouth.  This 
the  cow  resented  of  course. 

"  I  never  saw  you  behave  like  this  before,  Jeanie,"  said 
Buchanan.  "  Well,  my  lass,"  he  added,  "  I'll  try  you 
with  the  saddle." 

On  went  the  saddle. 

That  was  easy  work,  but  when  he  passed  his  hand 
along  the  tail,  with  a  view  to  put  it  through  the  crupper, 
and  felt  her  lack  of  long  hair, — 

"  Oh  !  the  ill-gettit  *  monkeys !  "  he  muttered.  Then, 
losing  all  control  of  himself  and  his  English  also,  he 
rushed  towards  the  door,  shouting, — 

*  Ill-gettit  =  mischievous. 


"A  Man's  a  Man  for  a9  That."          171 

"  My  conscience  !     Wha  shaved  ma  pony's  tail  ?  " 

Flesh  and  blood  could  nob  stand  it  longer,  Willie  and 
Dick-Rae  and  Buchanan's  Scotch  friends  laughed  till  the 
very  rafters  rang. 

The  lieutenant's  face  at  this  moment  was  a  study  for  a 
psychologist ;  but  when  Jean  herself  was  led  from  one 
door,  and  the  hummel-cooie,  with  bridle  and  saddle  on, 
was  led  from  the  other,  then  Buchanan  himself  saw 
through  the  trick  the  boys  had  played  him,  and  right 
merrily  joined  in  the  laugh  at  his  own  expense. 

But  this  joke  was  never  forgotten  in  the  old  Castile, 
and  all  that  was  required  at  table  at  any  time  when 
Buchanan  was  argumentative,  was  to  quietly  ask  the 
question, — 

"  Who  saddled  the  dun  cow  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  the  cow,"  Buchanan  would  often  reply. 
(( '  A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that.' " 

****** 

"  Hurrah !  "  said  Captain  Buckram,  of  the  marines, 
coming  into  the  wardroom  one  day,  "  Hurrah  !  Dr.  Curver, 
have  you  heard  the  news  ?  " 

"  No !  " 

"Well,  I've  just  seen  the  purser,  and  we're  off  south 
in  a  day  or  two." 

"  Glad  I  am,"  said  Curver,  "  peeping  through  his 
microscope  at  an  insect's  wing  he  had  just  mounted. 
"  Anything,  Buckram,  for  a  change." 

"Just  what  I  say.  Anything  for  a  change.  A  little 
fighting  will  do  us  all  good." 


172  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

This  was  in  the  end  of  this  same  year  1807. 

By-and-by  the  purser  himself  came  fussing  in  full  of 
importance.  A  little  funny,  fat  man  he  was,  with  a  high 
notion  of  his  own  dignity  and  intrinsic  worth,  but  on  the 
whole  rather  a  favourite  in  the  mess. 

"  Curver,"  he  said,  "  have  you  all  your  medical  stores 
on  board  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes/'  replied  the  worthy  doctor,  quietly  adjust- 
ing his  focus. 

"All  right!"  said  Purser  Perkins.  "  Steward,  is  it 
seven  bells  ?  " 

"  Gone  seven  bells  some  time,  sir." 

"  Well,  you  may  fetch  me  a  glass  of  beer." 

"  Steward,"  cried  the  doctor,  "  bring  my  cold  tea." 

"  How  you  can  drink  cold  tea/'  said  Buckram,  "  and 
beer  like  this  on  the  table  is  a  puzzle  to  me." 

"  Don't,  Buckram,  don't,"  replied  Carver  with  mock 
solemnity,  "  don't  attempt  to  puzzle  your  brains." 

"Ha!  ha!"  laughed  Purser  Perkins,  "he  needn't 
trouble,  he  hasn't  got  any  to  puzzle." 

"I  owe  you  one  for  that,  my  worthy  Perkins." 

"Don't  bother  about  paying  then,  Buckram,  my  boy  ; 
I  know  you  have  the  will — the  ability  is  quite  another 
pair  of  shoes.  And  now  I  must  hurry  away  to  the  dock- 
yard. I  shall  be  frightfully  busy  for  a  day  or  two." 

"  Oh,  bother  your  busy-ness  !  "  cried  Dr.  Curver,  look- 
ing up.  "  Listening  to  you  twaddling,  I've  spoiled  my 
wing.  A  beautiful  specimen,  too,  as  ever  was  seen." 

"  I'll  go,"  said  Perkins. 


"  A  Man's  a  Man  for  a'  That.  "         173 

"  Time,  too/'  said  Buckram,  laughing. 

Next  afternoon  Dick-Rae  and  his  friend  went  on 
shore  together. 

They  were  going  to  bid  their  friends  the  Flounces 
farewell. 

Friends  ? — ah  !  we  must  not  forget,  Old  Benbow  was 
more  than  a  friend  to  one,  though  Dick-Rae  did  not  seem 
to  have  a  heart  at  all,  so  thought  the  gentle  Ada,  or 
rather  the  gentle  Ada's  mother.  To  be  sure  the  Hon.  de 
Grey,  she  thought,  was  but  a  boy,  Nevertheless,  boys 
will  be  men,  and  if  she  could  only  have  seen  her  way 
even  to  the  remotest  probability  of  an  alliance  between 
his  noble  family  and  the  family  of  the  Flounces,  she  felt 
as  if  she  could  die  happy. 

As  to  Benbow  and  Julia,  well,  I  suppose  they  bade 
each  other  good-bye  in  the  usual  affectionate  style  of 
British  sailors  and  their  betrothed ;  but  I  was  not  there 
to  see,  and  if  I  had  been  I  would  have  considered  the 
interview  sacred. 

But  I  happen  to  know  that  there  were  a  few  foolish 
tears  shed,  and  a  broken  ring,  and  also  a  broken  six- 
penny piece,  so  I  suppose  it  was  all  en  regie. 

And  now  the  scenes  of  our  story  change  to  warmer 
climes,  and  adventures  far  more  exciting  than  any  amount 
of  love-making. 

The  French  had  occupied  Portugal, — they  kept  our 
fleet  very  busy  in  those  dashing  days;  they  had 
occupied  Portugal,  but  they  certainly  would  not  have 
Madeira.  Rear- Admiral  Sir  Samuel  Hood  would  see  to 


174  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


that,  with  his  squadron  of  four  ships  of  the  line  and  as 
many  frigates,  the  Castile  being  one. 

So  away  they  went,  and  for  a  time  we  bid  adieu  to  the 
chalky  cliffs  of  old  England. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WHICH   ENDS    WITH    QUITE   A   WONDERFUL   ADVENTUKE. 

"  THE  white  sail's  set,  the  gallant  frigate  tight, 
Masts,  spires,  and  strand  retiring  to  the  right, 
The  glorious  main  expanding  o'er  the  bow, 
The  blue  waves  curl  before  the  dashing  prow." 

— Byron. 

HE  wind  going  down  Channel  was  bitterly 
cold  but  favourable ;  so  good  way  was 
made,  and  ere  long  the  Castile,  which  by 
some  accident  or  other  had  at  night  lost 
sight  of  the  rest  of  the  squadron,  was  ploughing  her 
lonely  way  through  the  dark  waters  of  Biscay's  stormy 
bay. 

Not  always  stormy,  however,  is  this  much  maligned  bit 
of  sea.  Oat  of  some  eight  or  ten  times  that  I  myself 
have  crossed  it,  I  have  been  but  in  two  gales ;  but  one 
was  a  hurricane,  a  night  I  shall  never  forget  should  I 
live  to  be  ninety. 

The  Castile  on  the  present  occasion  had  what  sailors 
call  rough-and-tumble  weather ;  the  wind,  however,  was 
pretty  favourable,  being  abaft  the  beam  a  point  or  two, 


176  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

and  blowing  at  times  hard  enough — so  some  of  the  men 
expressed  it— to  tear  the  buttons  off  their  jackets  while 
reefing  topsails. 

But  once  clear  of  the  bay,  with  the  good  ship  dancing 
and  curtseying  to  every  wave,  things  got  more  pleasant 
and  the  weather  grew  sensibly  warmer. 

By  this  time  it  had  leaked  out  aft  where  the  Castile 
was  bound  for,  though  the  men  had  not  received  the 
news.  Things  of  this  sort,  however,  soon  get  wind  at 
sea. 

"  Heard  we  were  going  to  the  West  Indies,"  said  the 
carpenter  one  evening  in  his  mess. 

' '  Hurrah  !  for  prize-money  then,"  cried  a  messmate. 

"  But  come,  I  say,"  said  another  sailor,  "  this  isn't  the 
way  to  the  Ingies.  Why,  here  is  long  Tom  Thumb. 
Look  out  to  grab  him  as  he  goes  by." 

Long  Tom  was  coming  from  forward;  but  long  as  he 
was,  as  slippery  as  an  eel  was  Tom. 

But  the  carpenter  hitched  his  leg  between  Tom's,  and 
Tom  fell  forward  and  was  caught  in  the  arms  of  the  A.B. 
who  had  last  spoken. 

"  Beautifully  landed  !  Sit  you  down,  Tom,  old  man. 
Bring  yourself  to  an  anchor.  You  don't  get  out  o'  here 
till  you've  jolly  well  had  a  glass  and  drunk  our  healths, 
and  given  us  a  toast." 

"  Well,  matie/'  replied  Tom,  "  as  to  bringing  myself  to 
an  anchor,  why  I  haven't  a  say  in  the  matter,  seeing  as 
how  you've  pulled  me  right  down.  Well,  if  Pm  obliged 
to— your  wery  good  healths,  lads,  all  round." 


"  You've  got  the  great  snapping  turtle  of  the  far  \vest  on  to  you  no\ 
and  there's  no  getting  quit  of  him." 

[Page  183. 


a  Wonderful  Adventure.  177 

"But  the  toast?" 
"  Oh  !  didn't  I  give  you  a  toast  ?  " 
"  No ;  fill  up  his  glass  again,  Fred.     Now,  Tom,  now." 
"Well,"  said  Tom,  looking  smiling  round  the  table, 
"  here's  to — 

'  The  wind  that's  abaft,  and  the  glasses  unquaffed, 

And  the  enemy  down  on  our  lee ; 

To  the  old  folks  at  home,  to  the  young  ones  that  roam, 
And  the  girl  that's  a-thiuking  on  me.' " 

"  Bravo  !  you're  a  brick,  Tom." 

"  Now,  Tom,  tell  us,  lad,  where  we  are  off  to  ?  Eh  ? 
You  pick  up  all  the  news  aft." 

"  Well,"  replied  Tom,  "  atween  you  and  me  and 
the  binacle,  boys,  it's  bearing  up  for  Madeira  we  are,  to 
fight  the  Portugees." 

"Ah  !  you  means  fight  for  'em,  don't  ye,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Bothered  if  I  know,  mates ;  it's  either  for  or  agin 
'em." 

"  Well,  anyhow  there'll  be  some  fun." 

"  Ay,  that  there  will." 

"  And  a  bit  o'  prize  money  too." 

Farther  and  farther  south  went  the  good  frigate. 
Strange  birds  came  floating  and  tackiag  around  the 
vessel,  strange  fish  leapt  up  out  of  the  sea,  and  strange 
stars  were  raised  from  the  southern  horizon. 

And  the  sea  got  bluer  and  bluer,  and  the  sky  brighter, 
and  the  sun  was  hot  and  scorching  by  day,  so  much 
so  that  even  the  nights  were  close  and  sultry.  Active 

M 


178  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

enough  our  fellows  had  been  in  the  cold  north,  but  now 
all  hands  were  quiet  and  listless,  even  the  great  New- 
foundland went  slouching  round  the  decks  as  if  there 
was  but  little  life  left  in  him,  the  Skye  terrier  forbore  to 
bark  at  the  game-cock's  cage,  and  that  bold  bird  almost 
forgot  to  crow. 

Smart  kept  his  watch,  when  it  happened  to  be  the 
middle  one,  in  a  way  peculiarly  his  own.  For  the  first 
hour,  from  twelve  till  one,  his  messmates  could  hear  him 
rattling  up  and  down  the  companion  ladder,  about 
twice  in  every  ten  minutes.  He  was  paying  visits, 
sans  ceremonie,  to  the  pantry,  for  the  purpose  of  eating 
and  drinking.  Between  one  and  two,  the  bells  were 
struck ;  but  after  this,  if  there  were  any  such  sound 
to  break  the  stillness  of  the  night,  it  was  more  by 
chance  than  good  management :  and  had  you  been  on 
deck  and  anywhere  near  the  skylight,  you  might  have 
descried  the  figure  of  a  young  officer  lying  prone  thereon, 
and  heard  sounds  emanating  from  'neath  the  cap  that 
covered  his  face,  which  very  much  resembled  the  planing 
of  wood  or  croaking  of  ditch  frogs,— only  it  was  neither. 
The  figure  was  that  of  Smart ;  he  was  keeping  his  watch, 
and  that  was  how  he  did  it. 

Ah  !  but  there  were  more  sleepers  than  Smart  on  that 
drowsy  deck ;  for  the  men  on  the  outlook  had  curled  up, 
and  there  were  hands  lying  here  and  there  in  dark 
corners,  while  even  the  man  at  the  wheel  bent  and 
nodded  over  the  binacle  as  he  held  the  spokes. 

It  was  a  drowsy  time. 


Quite  a  Wonderful  Adventure.  179 

It  was  a  drowsy  ship. 

I  might  quote  the  poet  Thomson's  lines,  with  one  word 
changed,  and  say, — 

"  A  pleasing  ship  of  drowsy  head  it  was, 

Of  dreams  that  wave  before  the  half -shut  eye, 
And  of  gay  castles  in  the  clouds,  that  pass 
For  ever  flashing  round  a  summer  sky." 

This  is  the  poetical  way  of  putting  it,  and  it  really  does 
seem  a  pity  to  descend  from  Parnassus  to  the  extreme 
practical,  and  to  say  that  the  drowsiness  experienced  by 
nearly  all  hands  was  easily  accounted  for  on  physiological 
principles,  and  depended  more  on  the  sudden  change 
from  the  snow-cold  of  England's  winter  to  the  almost 
eternal  summer  that  ever  smiles  over  the  blue  waves 
that  lave  the  shores  of  Madeira. 

For  near  Madeira  they  soon  came,  and  all  at  once,  as  it 
were,  the  island  burst  upon  their  view.  This  is  true,  at 
all  events,  as  far  as  Willie  Grant  and  Dick-Rae  are  con- 
cerned ;  for  it  happened  to  have  been  all-night-in  with 
these  young  gentlemen  just  before  Funchal  was  sighted, 
and  on  going  for  a  turn  on  deck  before  breakfast,  lo!  the 
glorious  mountains  towering  over  them,  wooded  to  the 
very  top,  the  white  town  nestling  beneath,  the  rugged 
rocks  and  forts  near  by,  and  high  up  in  mid  distance, 
in  a  kind  of  forest  land,  the  mansions  of  the  wealthier 
Portuguese. 

But  what  astonished  them  most  was  the  fact  that  there, 
quietly  at  anchor,  lay  the  British  squadron ;  flags  flying 


180  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

and  sails  all  clewed ;  the  sweet,  soft  music  of  the  flag-ship's 
band  stealing  o'er  the  rippling  water,  and  many  a  native 
boat  flitting  hither  and  thither  on  the  water,  looking 
like  butterflies  afloat  in  a  summer's  sky. 

The  fun  was  all  over,  and  of  fighting  there  had  been 
none. 

The  splendid  audacity  of  the  British  sailor  had  won 
another  bloodless  victory. 

The  Portuguese  showed  a  deal  of  wisdom  in  permitting 
us  to  quietly  take  possession  of  the  island  ;  they  always 
did  show  wisdom  whenever  number  one  was  at  stake. 
But  in  this  case,  why  should  they  have  shown  fight  ?  If 
they  had  done  so,  spread  out  as  it  is  on  a  kind  of 
amphitheatre,  the  town  would  have  been  in  flames  from 
end  to  end  in  a  few  hours,  and  the  not  over-strong  forts 
piles  of  smouldering  ruins. 

Madeira  is  a  glorious  island  !  From  my  inmost  heart  I 
pity  the  English  tourist  who  has  never  spent  a  month 
there,  and  the  toiling,  moiling  ones  who  from  June  till 
May  are  kept  at  work  amid  the  grime  and  din  of  cities, 
for  ever  trying  to  push  their  wheel  of  Fortune  hard  up 
hill.  To  these  Madeira  might  say, — 

"  Come,  and  without  fee, 
I  in  oblivion  will  your  sorrows  steep, 
Your  cares,  your  toils  ;  will  steep  you  in  a  sea 
Of  full  delight !     Oh,  come,  ye  weary  wights,  to  me !  " 

I   have  the  sweetest,  the   dearest   recollections  of   this 
lovely  isle  of  the  sea,  with  its  grandest  of  scenery,  its 


Quite  a  Wonderful  Adventure.  181 

wild  mountains,  its  rocky  ravines,  its  cliffs  and  canons, 
its  roaring  streams,  its  smoking  cataracts,  its  hills  and 
dales  and  forests  and  flowers,  and  its  ever-changing, 
encircling  sea. 

All  in  this  last  sentence  gives  food  for  the  mind.  Come 
with  me  into  the  hotels,  with  their  cool  halls  and  tree- 
shaded  verandahs,  and  you  will  have  food  for  the  body 
also;  the  fish  and  curries  placed  before  you,  and  the 
fruit,  are  things  never  to  be  forgotten  ! 

And  the  turtle  ?  Oh !  yes,  the  turtle.  Sometimes, 
when  passing  along  by  a  great  English  hotel,  I  notice 
lying  at  the  door  an  unfortunate  animal  of  this  kind, 
bearing  on  his  horny  shield  the  words — in  chalk,  "  For 
dinner."  I  pass  by  with  a  shudder,  and  my  mind  re- 
verts to  Madeira.  That  unhappy  hotel  turtle  has  been 
fasting  for  weeks ;  he  is  poor,  almost  diseased.  Pah ! 
You  get  turtles  at  Madeira.,  fat  and  fresh  from  the 
beautiful  sea. 

lt  You've  been  here  before,  Dick-Rae?"  said  Willie 
Grant,  as  the  boat  which  had  brought  them  on  shore  was 
sped  up  over  the  round,  hurtling  stones  and  made  safe 
on  the  beech. 

"  That  I  have,  and  Fll  be  your  guide.  There's  no  end 
of  fun  to  be  got  away  aloft  yonder.  But  let  us  go  and 
get  that  lordly  turtle  that  Hunt  told  me  to  buy.  Ever 
turn  a  turtle  ?  " 

"  No,  man  j  there  are  no  turtles  in  Scotch  waters,  only 
jelly-fish  and  herrings.  Fve  turned  a  herring  or  two  in 
my  time." 


182  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

The  two  friends  got  a  shore  boat,  a  kind  of  semi-gondola, 
and  had  a  long  cruise  round.  They  landed  on  a  bit  of 
nice  beach  with  rocks  rising  up  round  it.  Here  they 
found  a  Portuguese  fisherman  in  possession  of  an  excep- 
tionally large  and  splendid  turtle.  Dick-Rae  bought  it, 
and  made  the  fellow  haul  it  right  away  up  as  far  as  the 
rocks. 

"  Now,"  cried  the  midshipmite,  "  stand  by  there, 
Grant.  I'm  going  to  turn  this  animile,  this  insect,  on  to 
his  breast.  He  will  scuttle  away,  and  your  duty  is  to 
intercept  him,  seize  him  by  a  flipper  and  the  shell,  and 
spin  him  over  on  his  back  again.  He's  only  a  kind 
of  a  beetle,  you  know.  Are  you  ready  !  " 

"All  ready." 
;    "  Hurrah !  then.     There  goes  the  beetle  ! " 

The  creature  headed  away  for  the  ocean.  Willie  Grant 
went  for  Dick-Rae's  beetle  pluckily  enough,  and  after  a 
terrible  struggle  succeeded  in  turning  it ;  but  in  doing 
so  he  missed  his  footing  and  fell. 

Then  that  "  beetle  "  did  what  he  was  quite  justified  in 
doing  under  the  circumstances ;  he  made  a  grand  snap, 
and  fixed  Willie  by  the  seat  of  the  trousers. 

Fixed  him,  did  I  say  ?  Yes,  and  it  was  a  fix ;  and  that 
beetle  kept  the  hold  too,  and  meant  it.  Willie  struggled 
in  vain.  Dick-Rae  rolled  in  the  sand  and  screamed  with 
laughing,  and  the  Portugee  joined  him. 

" Can't  you  call  your  beetle  off? "  cried  Willie. 

When  Dick-Rae  and  the  fisherman  had  laughed  till 
they  ached  all  over,  they  went  to  Willie's  assistance.  The 


Quite  a  Wonderful  Adventure.  183 

Porfcugee  was  going  to  speak,  but  the  middy  gave  him  a 
sly  pinch  on  the  arm. 

' ( That  beetle,"  said  Dick-Rae  looking  awfully  serious, 
"  that  beetle  means  business." 

"  So  it  seems/'  said  Willie. 

"  Yes ;  and  he'll  never  let  go.  No,  never  !  You've  got 
the  great  snapping  turtle  of  the  far  west  on  to  you  now, 
Willie ;  and  there's  no  getting  quit  of  him." 

"  What's  to  be  done  ?  "  cried  Willie. 

"  If  he  does  let  go  for  half  a  second,"  continued  Dick- 
Rae,  "  it  will  only  be  to  snap  farther  in,  and  to  get  more 
trouser,  and  likewise  skin." 

"  I  tell  you,  Dick-Rae,  I'm  coming  all  over  in  a  cold 
sweat.  Pull  him  off,  I  tell  you." 

"  My  dear  boy,  keep  cool, — it  is  always  the  best  plan,  in 
love  or  war.  Now,  as  to  pulling  him  off,  I  might  as  well 
attempt  to  Avhistle  him  off." 

"  What's  to  be  done  then  ?  " 

"  One  of  three  things.  First,  we  might  bundle  you, 
beetle  and  all,  into  the  boat,  and  take  you  on  board ;  then 
probably  in  a  week  or  so  this  snapping  turtle  might 
consent  to  let  go,  and  you  could  go  and  keep  your  watch 
again  as  if  nothing  had  happened." 

"  Oh,  do  be  quick  !  "  cried  poor  Willie. 

"  Secondly,"  Dick-Rae  went  on,  with  most  provoking 
sang  froid,  "  we  could  cut  off  the  turtle's  head ;  but  that 
would  not  cause  him  to  quit.  You  would  either  have  to 
go  on  board  breechless,  sans  culotte,  or  report  yourself  to 
the  commander  with  the  beetle's  head  hanging  to  you. 


184  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Thirdly,  we  can  cut  out  the  seat  of  your  unmention- 
ables, permitting  the  turtle — evidently  a  strong-minded 
beetle — to  retain  that  portion  of  your  lower  garment 
which  he  now  holds  so  pertinaciously  in  his  bony  jaws/' 

"Any  mortal  thing!"  roared  Willie,  "but  get  the 
brute  away." 

"  Right !  "  said  Dick-Rae,  and  out  came  his  knife,  and 
he  proceeded  to  work  with  a  will. 

In  less  than  half  a  minute  Willie  was  released.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  dealt  the  turtle  a  kick,  which  did 
not  at  all  disturb  the  equanimity  of  the  beetle,  but 
punished  his  own  toes  considerably. 

"My  conscience  !  Dick-Rae,"  Willie  exclaimed,  "you 
needn't  have  cut  so  much  cloth  away.  How  in  the  name 
of  goodness  can  I  ever  get  on  board  ?  " 

"I  must  admit,"  said  Dick,  "it  will  be  awkward ;  it 
would  be  still  more  awkward  if  any  ladies  came  round 
the  corner." 

Willie  made  a  rush  for  the  boat. 

"Don't  you  bring  your  beetle,  I  won't  be  shipmates 
with  the  brute." 

His  friend  stopped  for  a  minute  to  speak  to  the 
Portugee,  then  joined  him,  and  by-and-by  they  found 
themselves  alongside  the  Castile. 

"  By  all  that's  unlucky,"  said  Willie,  "  there  are  ladies 
on  the  quarter-deck." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  imperturbable  Dick-Rae,  "  so  there 
are;  you'll  have  to  make  a  run  forward  and  a  bolt  for 
the  fore  hatch," 


Quite  a  Wonderful  Adventure.  185 

"  No,  no ;  that  would  be  worse  and  worse.  Under  the 
circumstances  I  dare  not  turn  my  back  to  the  foe." 

"  Well,  I'll  run  aft  and  engage  the  enemy  near  the 
binacle,  and  you  walk  aft,  then  back  astern  down  the 
companion  ladder." 

And  that  is  exactly  what  Willie  did  do.  He  heard  the 
man  tittering  and  laughing  behind  him.  Willie  did  not 
mind  that.  His  eyes  were  aft,  and  he  kept  them  so  till, 
without  further  adventure,  he  slid  below. 

If  Willie  Grant  thought  he  had  seen  and  heard  the  last 
of  that  snapping  turtle,  he  was  far  mistaken. 

The  adventure  was  etched  in  the  wardroom,  and  caused 
no  end  of  merriment.  Nay,  more  than  that,  when  dining 
one  day  on  board  the  flag-ship,  the  president  said  to 
Willie,  somewhat  pointedly, — 

"  Are  you  fond  of  turtle,  Mr.  Grant  ?  " 

Willie  had  a  sly  glance  round  the  table,  and  felt  sure 
that  several  of  the  officers  were  biting  their  lips  and  that 
suppressed  merriment  was  twinkling  in  their  eyes. 

"  That  all  depends,"  he  replied  thoughtfully. 

The  officers  were  dying  to  laugh,  only  too  polite  to  do 
so ;  but  the  president,  being  a  man  of  tact,  immediately 
made  some  humorous  remark  on  quite  another  subject. 
The  table  exploded  then,  so  to  speak,  and  the  laugh 
went  rippling  round  the  table ;  but  no  one  knew  better 
than  Willie  Grant  that  it  was  the  story  of  Dick-Eae's 
beetle,  and  not  that  joke  of  the  president's,  which  caused 
the  ebullition. 

About  a  week  after  this,  on  taking  a  message  to  Dr. 


186  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Carver's  cabin,  what  should  he  see  hanging  among  the 
pictures  but  a  nicely  mounted  turtle's  head  on  a  gilded 
slab  of  ebony,  with  a  piece  of  white  canvas  in  its  jaws, 
and  underneath  the  inscription  in  gold  letters  : 

AE,  HIS  BEETLE/' 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FURTHER   FUN   AND    STRANGEE   ADVENTURES. 


now  with  care  and  with  sorrow, 
And  with  all  which  may  burden  the  mind, 
He  who  mirth  can  put  off  till  the  morrow, 

Loses  that  which  he  wishes  to  find. 
The  present  for  mirth  is  the  hour, 

The  present  is  the  time  to  be  gay, 
"With  haste  let  us  take,  then,  the  flower 
Can  only  be  gathered  to-day." 

—  Dibdin. 

HAT  with  boat-cruising,  picnics  among  the 
mountains,  and  balls  and  parties,  not  only 
on  shore  but  on  the  ships  of  the  fleet, 
time  passed  right  merrily  away  at  Madeira, 
and  Willie  Grant  thought  he  would  like  to  live  here 
for  at  least  a  year. 

I  do  not  think,  however,  that  the  military  portion  of 
the  inhabitants  cared  very  much  about  our  possession 
of  the  island,  nor  any  one  in  authority,  for  the  matter  of 
that  ;  even  boatmen  were  insolent  to  our  officers,  and 
civility  could  only  be  had  from  them  by  paying  for  it. 

187 


188  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

The  policemen  made  themselves  particularly  objection- 
able to  the  men,  and  often  made  them  prisoners  without 
much  cause;  that  is,  when  they  could  overpower  them 
by  force  of  numbers. 

But  Jack  soon  found  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty  by 
always  marching  in  convoys,  armed  with  sturdy  bits  of 
oak,  that  more  than  once  had  been  found  useful  in 
beating  down  the  policemen's  swords,  and  laying  their 
owners  prone  in  the  dust. 

Those  bold  policemen,  however,  never  failed  to  take 
their  revenge  on  Jack  when  they  found  him  straggling. 

Willie  Grant,  Dick-Rae,  and  Old  Benbow  were  dining 
together  one  evening  at  the  house  of  a  wealthy  merchant. 
After  dinner,  what  with  music,  talking,  and  dancing,  the 
time  passed  very  quickly  by  indeed,  till 

"  Between  the  late  and  early," 

when,  bidding  their  guests  good-bye,  they  started  off 
for  the  shore. 

It  was  a  bright  moonlight  night,  and  having  about 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  to  walk,  what  more  natural 
than  that  they  should  enliven  the  journey  with  a  song, 
or  that  the  song  should  be, — 

"  Eule,  Britannia !  Britannia  rules  the  waves  ! 
Britons  never— never— NEVER 
Shall  be  slaves  ! " 

They  were  passing  through  a  kind  of  square  when 
they  were  most  unceremoniously  attacked  by  four  police- 
men with  drawn  cutlasses. 


Further  Fun  and  Stranger  Adventures.     189 

They  had  hardly  time  to  throw  themselves  into  a 
state  of  defence  before  those  cowardly  fellows  were  on 
them. 

The  attack,  however,  was  beautifully  met,  though  each 
officer  fought  in  his  own  way,  all  being  armed  with  heavy 
sticks  only.  Willie  Grant  was  a  powerfully  built  young 
Highlander,  and  a  capital  swordsman  for  his  years. 
Anyhow,  he  floored  his  linen-draped  opponent  in  a 
minute,  or  less. 

Old  Beubow  knocked  one  down — English  fashion — 
with  a  blow  from  his  fist,  and  then  fenced  with  the 
other  till  a  well-aimed  blow  from  his  cudgel  put  the  foe 
Jtors  de  combat. 

Dick-Eae's  defence  was  like  everything  he  did — funny. 
He   ran   himself  right   between   his   enemy's  legs   and 
pitched   him  over   his   back ;   the  policeman,  falling  on 
his  head,  was  speedily  relieved  of  his  sword. 
"  Eun  now  !  "  cried  Benbow. 

Eun  they  did,  but  right  into  the  arms  of  a  fresh  posse 
of  policemen  who,  scenting  the  battle  from  afar,  had  come 
rushing  to  the  assistance  of  their  cloth.  There  were  five 
of  them.  Our  officers  got  into  a  corner  and  prepared  for 
a  sturdy  defence. 

How  the  affair  might  have  ended  it  is  impossible  to 
say,  had  not — at  the  very  moment  those  bold  white- 
jackets,  reinforced  by  the  defeated  four — nine  in  all,  and 
armed — were  about  to  rush  in — a  door  opened  right 
behind,  and  very  speedily  closed  again,  but  not  before 
our  heroes  were  safe  in  the  hall. 


190  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

This  was  a  strange  turn  of  the  tide.  An  old  white- 
haired  Portuguese  gentleman  received  them  most  hospit- 
ably, and  treated  them  so  well  that  it  was  three  o'clock 
before  they  thought  of  moving.  Good-nights  were  said 
and  promises  made  for  interchange  of  visits,  and  a  servant 
of  this  kindly  old  man  was  sent  to  conduct  them  by  a 
private  road  in  safety  to  the  beach. 

By  good  luck  they  found  a  boat  and  boatman.  For 
the  modest  sum  of  ten  shillings,  English  money,  this 
fellow  agreed  to  take  them  off;  so  they  embarked,  and 
were  rowed  away  just  as  a  party  of  disappointed  police- 
men made  a  rush  for  the  beach. 

But  the  adventures  of  this  night  were  not  yet  over, 
for  after  rowing  about  fifty  yards,  the  fellow  hauled  in 
his  oars  and  demanded  ten  shillings  each,  threatening  to 
row  at  once  on  shore  among  the  policemen  if  they  did 
not  at  once  comply. 

Old  Benbow  started  to  his  feet,  almost  upsetting  the 
frail  boat. 

"Desperate  diseases,"  he  shouted,  "need  desperate 
cures."  Next  moment  that  scoundrel  boatman  was  five 
yards  off  struggling  in  the  sea,  and  Benbow  had  the 
oars. 

The  fellow  could  swim,  so  there  was  no  fear  for  his 
life. 

The  policemen  made  a  rush  and  began  to  launch  a 
boat  in  pursuit. 

They  were  too  late !  Old  Benbow  made  the  boat  dance 
over  the  moonlit  waters. 


Further  Fun  and  Stranger  Adventures.     191 

Dick-Rae  started  a  song,  in  which  all  joined,  and  they 
were  soon  hailed  by  the  sentry  of  the  Castile. 

"Boat  ahoy!" 

"  No,  no." 

They  went,  therefore,  to  the  port  side,  and  clambered 
up  the  rope  ladder,  Benbow  first  bestowing  a  farewell 
kick  to  the  shore-boat,  which  sent  it  spinning  away 
astern. 

So  ended  one  night  on  shore. 

I  have  said  that  for  purposes  of  defence  our  blue- 
jackets used  to  go  iu  squads. 

Well,  once  a  boat's  crew  came  off  so  much  the  worse 
of  liquor  that  the  doctor  declared — Dr.  Hunt  I  mean — 
that  he  would  not  have  their  leave  stopped  this  time, 
but  if  the  like  occurred  again  he  would  punish  them  in 
a  way  they  little  dreamed  of. 

Now  there  dwelt  away  up  high  on  a  hill  a  horrid  man, 
who  sold  our  fellows  a  vile  and  fiery  spirit  called  aqita 
ardcnta.  The  men  translated  these  words  into  "  fixed 
bayonets." 

On  a  Saturday  Dick-Rae  came  into  the  gun-room.  It 
was  after  sunset. 

"  We  have  five  men  in  the  cells,  doctor,"  he  said ; 
"  they  have  been  on  shore  and  come  off  wild,  if  not 
mad.  The  fire-hose  has  been  manned,  and  is  playing  on 
them." 

Hunt  started  up,  red  with  anger.  He  called  the 
sentry. 

"  Sentry,  pass  the  word  for  the  barber." 


192  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  I  want  you  to  bring  your  tools  below  to  the  orlop 
deck,"  he  told  the  barber  when  he  came. 

He  found  the  delinquents  quiet  and  shivering,  most 
of  them  in  a  state  of  almost  coma. 

The  doctor  felt  their  pulses,  then  ordered  the  barber 
to  cut  off  their  hair  and  shave  their  heads.  Dick-Rae 
stood  by  and  laughed,  and  the  master-at-arms  laughed 
too  as  he  held  the  lantern. 

But  the  business  was  got  through  nevertheless. 

When  next  morning,  in  the  sick-bay,  little  Josh  rang 
the  bell  to  see  if  there  were  any  more  patients,  behold 
those  five  bald-heads  put  in  an  appearance. 

"  You're  all  right !"  said  Dr.  Hunt,  "go  to  duty." 

''Goto  duty!"  exclaimed  the  five  in  a  breath,  five 
pairs  of  hands  raised  at  once  to  rub  five  hairless  heads. 
"To  duty,  sir,  like  this?" 

Dr.  Hunt  quietly  rose. 

"  Quartermaster  !"  he  cried. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Send  those  men  to  duty,  and  see  that  they  stand 
together  in  a  row  when  the  captain  inspects  the  ship  ! " 

Now  Captain  Oldrey  was  a  good  officer,  and  a  man  of 
even  temper  but  of  strict  service,  and  he  would  not  have 
laughed  on  duty  for  a  ship's  ransom. 

When  however  he  approached  the  bald-headed  crew, 
and  the  order  was  given  "  caps  off,"  and  they  stood  in 
all  their  nakedness,  their  faces  as  long  as  fiddles,  and 
their  grotesque-looking  skulls  as  guiltless  of  hair  as  the 
lid  of  a  copper  kettle,  the  captain  was  staggered. 


Further  Fun  and  Stranger  Adventures.     193 

"In  the  name  of  everything  comical,  what  is  the 
meaning  of — ha!  ha!  ha!"  he  finished  the  sentence 
with  a  hearty  laugh,  the  officers  took  up  the  chorus, 
and  a  titter  went  all  round  the  ship's  company. 

When  Dr.  Hunt  explained,  the  ship's  corporal  was 
called,  and  bare-headed  and  in  single-file,  the  men  were 
marched  off  to  the  cells.  But  it  was  a  sight  not  easily 
to  be  forgotten. 

In  those  dashing  days  of  old,  the  very  uncertainty  of 
what  would  occur  or  turn  up,  or  the  kind  of  adventures 
that  would  accrue  to  them,  must  have  possessed  a  certain 
amount  of  charm  for  naval  officers. 

The  changes,  too,  of  fortune  were  so  sudden,  no  wonder 
that  our  great  Nelson  himself  once  remarked  that  nothing 
was  improbable  at  sea.  A  ship  might,  in  the  morning, 
fight,  beat,  and  capture  a  Frenchman,  but  be  herself 
beaten  and  captured  by  some  other  Frenchman  the  same 
evening ;  and  no  one  would  have  been  surprised  had  the 
fortune  of  war  found  both  French  ships  prizes  next  day, 
and  the  English  ship  once  more  free. 

When  the  Castile  left  England,  she  certainly  did  not 
expect  to  sail  for  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  But  a  vessel 
ran  into  the  roadstead  off  Madeira  one  evening  with  the 
news  that  ten  merchantmen  from  India  were  lying  help- 
less at  Symon's  Town,  with  French  privateers  hovering 
like  hawks  over  larks  outside,  the  man-o'-war  that  had 
conveyed  them  having  been  taken  aback  in  a  white 
squall,  and  sunk  like  a  stone  in  ten  minutes'  time. 


194  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

So  off  went  the  Castile  to  the  rescue,  with  all  possible 
despatch. 

This  would  be  quite  a  long  cruise,  so  our  fellows  on 
board  the  frigate  quietly  settled  down  to  a  sea  life. 

Service  was  now  stricter  than  ever.  Even  Smart,  the 
master's  mate,  dared  not  now  have  forty  winks  on  the 
skylight  while  keeping  the  middle  watch.  Both  sailors 
and  marines  were  kept  busy  all  day,  what  with  gun- 
drill,  small-arm  drill,  scrubbing  or  holy-stoning  decks, 
cleaning  guns  and  brass  work,  setting  or  shortening  sail, 
and  keeping  the  frigate  as  tidy  and  bright,  from  bow- 
sprit to  binacle,  as  a  crown-piece  newly  from  the  mint. 

The  best  of  look-outs  had  to  be  kept,  and  though  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  tyranny  on  board  her,  still  every 
man  and  officer  had  to  be  most  strict  in  the  performance 
of  his  duty, — any  dereliction  was  severely  punished,  any 
attempt  at  insubordination  met  with  dire  reward. 

Twice  during  this  voyage  to  the  Cape  the  cat  was 
used,  and  so  well-deserved  did  the  punishment  seem  that 
even  Dr.  Curver  did  not  attempt  to  interfere,  as,  in 
mercy,  he  might  have  done. 

But  he  asked  to  be  excused  from  attending  the  "  flay- 
ing match/'  as  it  was  called.  He  remained  in  his  cabin, 
and  Dr.  Hunt  took  his  place. 

Dr.  Curver  was  as  great  a  favourite  with  the  officers 
of  the  gunroom  mess  as  Willie  Grant  and  Dick-Rae 
were  with  the  men  forward.  In  fact  these  two  young 
gentlemen  might  often  be  found  near  the  galley  fire  of 
an  evening,  not  only  listening  to  the  sailors'  yarns,  but 


Further  Fun  and  Stranger  Adventures.  195 

themselves  telling  stories.  They  were  on  this  account 
universally  respected  and  looked  up  to,  and  positively 
loved. 

Little  Josh  was  the  ship's  peb  all  round,  and  occupied 
much  the  same  position  that  monkeys  do  on  board,  when 
there  happen  to  be  any  such. 

It  was  nothing  uncommon  to  see  Dr.  Carver  seated 
or  standing  by  the  bows,  surrounded  by  half  a  dozen 
ship's  boys,  including  Josh — who  hung  on  every  word 
the  good  doctor  uttered — and  close  under  his  lee  Willie 
and  Dick. 

Curver  was  a  naturalist;  at  least,  he  was  a  lover  of 
nature,  and  it  is  very  much  the  same  thing.  And  these 
little  parties  at  the  bows  had  really  assembled  to  hear 
him  discourse  on  living  things,  on  the  creatures  they 
saw  in  the  water  and  in  the  sky. 

One  of  his  most  attentive  listeners  was  a  dark-skinned 
native  lad  from  Sierra  Leone,  whom  the  doctor  had 
picked  up  at  Madeira  and  installed  as  body-servant. 
And  very  pointed  and  pertinent,  though  never  im- 
pertinent, were  many  of  the  questions  the  lad  was  wont 
to  ask. 

He  even  sometimes  volunteered  a  little  history  of  his 
own,  and  at  times  his  anecdotes  of  life  in  the  far  interior 
of  Africa  were  well  worth  listening  to.  But  strange  was 
his  English,  or  way  of  talking,  and  terrible  his  tales  at 
times.  His  grandfather,  it  seems,  was  caught  and  carried 
into  the  bush  by  a  lion. 

"  He  plenty  ole  man,  though,"  Cuckoo  remarked,  "  he 


196  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

plenty  ole,  so  no  muchee  good.  De  lion  lie  catchee 
he  quick.  I  follow  he  to  de  jungle.  Dat  lion  makee  de 
bones  scrunch.  He  !  he  !" 

"  Didn't  you  make  any  attempt  to  save  your  grand- 
father, Cuckoo  ?"  asked  Willie. 

Cuckoo  looked  at  Willie  pityingly. 

"  What  for  I  try  savee  he  ?  He  ole  man.  Ole  man 
no  good.  Dat  is  nuff." 

This  last  expression  was  a  favourite  one  with  Cuckoo. 
Cuckoo,  it  must  be  admitted,  was  a  strange  name  for 
a  nigger  boy,  but  the  men  had  at  first  named  him 
Cucumber.  Cucumber  he  was  named  by  Paddy  Flint, 
•who  was  always  up  to  some  lark,  "  bekase  he  looks  so 
cool,  it's  quite  refreshin'  to  clap  yer  eyes  upon  him." 

"Dey  kill  my  fader  in  de  war,"  he  said  one  day. 
"  Fader  fight  with  spear.  But  they  knockee  he  down, 
den  hold  back  he  head,  and  cut  one  big  cut  in  de  neck. 
Massa  Curver,  how  de  blood  fly  !  Dat  is  nuffin." 

It  ought  to  be  noted  that  I,  the  author  of  this  tale, 
am  not  accountable  for  Cuckoo's  morality,  or  rather  his 
lack  of  it.  He  seemed  most  unfeelingly  unfilial,  so  far 
as  the  male  portion  of  his  predecessors  were  concerned. 
But  it  should  be  mentioned  to  his  credit  that  he  loved 
the  female  branch. 

"  Seems  to  me  now,"  he  said  one  day,  "  I  nebber  had 
no  mudder.  He  takee  she  away." 

"  Who  did,  Cuckoo  ?"  asked  Dick-Rae. 
"  Why  de  Great  Spirit.     One  day  she   come  to  me, 
and  say,  f  1'se  berry  poorly,  boy.'     Den  she  go  and  lie 


Further  Fun  and  Stranger  Adventures.  197 

down  in  de  shade  of  de  lookta  tree.  She  breathee 
quick.  She  pantee  too.  Den  de  eyes  roll  up  aud  roll, 
and  by'me-by  I  see  nuffin  but  de  white.  We  digee 
one  big  hole  and  lay  poor  mudder  down  to  sleep.  Next 
day  we  go  look.  No  mudder  dere  now.  De  ground 
all  scrapee  scrapee,  where  de  lions  had  been. 

"  No  one  to  make  de  curry  now.  Sister  not  big,  but 
we  lib  in  de  great  forest.  We  eat  de  nut,  de  cassava 
root,  and  de  big  splash  apple,  and  we  sleep  togedder 
in  de  jungle  bush.  By'me-by  though  de  yellow  man 
come,  plenty  sword,  plenty  spear.  De  bush  now  all 
fire.  De  wild  beasts  run,  de  snakes  go  past,  makee 
much  hiss.  Plenty  bobbery  in  de  forest  now.  I  run. 
Sister  run;  but  de  yellow  man  catchee  she,  and  I 
nebber,  nebber  see  her  more.  But  dat  is  nuffin." 

It  was  evidently  a  good  deal  nevertheless,  for  the  tears 
were  running  down  poor  Cuckoo's  cheeks  fast  and  thick. 

The  Castile  was  becalmed  on  the  line,  as  most  ships 
were  in  those  old  days.  Not  a  nice  position  to  be  in 
either,  with  the  great  sun  flaming  overhead,  the  blue 
sea  beneath  reflecting  his  rays  from  every  great  smooth, 
heaving  wave,  the  pitch  boiling  in  the  seams  under  feet, 
stifling  heat  everywhere,  and  the  ship  tumbling  about 
with  uneasy  motion,  as  a  dead  log  of  wood  might  have. 
Far  from  pleasant. 

There  was  the  usual  old-fashioned  fun  in  crossing  the 
line.  Neptune  came  duly  for  his  boys,  and  brought  his 
stiff-bearded  wife,  and  the  lads  who  had  never  been  on 
the  equator  before  were  duly  interrogated;  duly  shaved, 


198  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

and  duly  plunged  head  over  heels  into  a  tub  of  water. 
Willie  Grant  was  among  the  number,  and  though  Dick- 
Rae  was  his  best  friend  on  board,  that  did  not  hinder  him 
from  enjoying  sport  at  Willie's  expense.  Oh,  dear  no  ! 
for  the  truth  is  Dick-Rae  was  Willie's  chief  tormentor. 

Now  Willie,  having  been  duly  warned,  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  put  on  his  oldest  clothes.  He  was  a 
canny  young  Scot,  you  see.  But  he  did  something  else 
that  was  cannier  still :  when  his  eyes  were  being  bound, 
Willie  whispered  hurriedly  to  the  man  to  manage  it  so 
that  he  could  just  see  a  little  with  one  eye.  Having 
hopes  of  a  reward,  the  man  did  so. 

And  it  came  to  pass  that  just  at  that  moment  that 
Willie  was  being  toppled  over  into  the  great  tub,  he 
made  a  spring  and  a  grab  at  Dick-Rae — who  had  his 
best  jacket  on, — and  the  dark  dirty  water  closed  over 
the  heads  of  both  at  one  and  the  same  time. 

Cheers  and  laughter  rent  the  air  !  It  was  beautifully 
done,  and  Dick  was  under.  Willie  had  paid  his  friend 
out  for  the  snapping  turtle  trick. 

The  breeze  sprang  up  at  last.  Oh,  what  joy  to  see 
the  white  sails  once  more  bellying  out  before  the  wind  ! 

By-and-by  they  got  into  the  trades  again,  and  then 
indeed  the  ship  flew  merrily  on. 

One  afternoon, — 

"  A  sail  in  sight  appears, 
They  hail  her  \vith  three  cheers   " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A   DASHING    ENGAGEMENT. 

"  IF  to  engage  they  give  the  word, 

To  quarters  all  repair ; 
While  splintered  masts  go  by  the  board, 
And  shots  sing  through  the  air." 

—Dibdin. 

HERE  were  all  sorts  of  queer  craft  about 
in  these  war  times,  and  the  sail  now  show- 
ing her  top-gallant-masts  over  the  water 
might   be  either  friend  or  foe;    and  she 
might  either  fight  or  run  away. 

"Aloft,  Mr.  Grant/'  said  Captain  Oldrey,  "and  see 
what  you  can  make  of  her ;  you  have  younger  eyes  than 
I.  Take  your  time." 

Up  went  Willie,  with  his  telescope — a  beautiful  gift 
from  Squire  McBride — slung  over  his  shoulder;  up  into 
the  main-topmast  cross-trees. 

"  I'm  going  higher/'  said  Willie. 

"  But  you  can't,  sir." 

"  I  can  e  speel, ' '  *  Willie  replied  quietly,  focusing  his 

glass. 

*  Speel  =  climb  a  bare  pole. 


200  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"I'm  bothered!"  exclaimed  Buchanan  on  the  quarter- 
deck, "  if  that  young  monkey  isn't  going  to  s-s-speel  up 
to  the  m-m-m-nmintruck." 

So  Willie  did,  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  for  with  each 
swing  of  the  vessel  the  main-topmast  described  a  fright- 
fully giddy  arc  in  the  air.  With  great  difficulty  he  got 
the  glass  to  bear  on  the  strange  sail,  and  having  done  so 
he  immediately  came  below. 

He  was  pale  and  sick,  but  he  staggered  aft. 

"  You  foolish  boy !  "  said  Curver,  who  was  with  the 
captain. 

"  Let  him  alone,  doctor,"  the  captain  said.  "  It  was 
done  for  the  good  of  the  service.  Well,  Mr.  Grant  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  three-master,  sir,  probably  a  frigate  like 
ourselves,  but  looks  bigger,  and  carries  the  French  flag 
at  her  mizen." 

The  sail  was  well  down  to  leeward  of  the  Castile,  and 
going  in  the  same  direction. 

Everything  was  got  ready  to  go  to  quarters  at  a 
minute's  notice,  and  the  ship  was  kept  away,  with  an 
extra  bit  of  canvas  to  help  her  on. 

The  frigate  seemed  to  feel  what  was  wanted  of  her,  as 
a  good  hunter  knows  the  slightest  touch  of  his  mas- 
ter's heel.  She  swept  through  the  water  now,  proudly, 
defiantly,  dipping  her  bows  till  the  water  curled  in 
over,  then  raising  her  head  and  tossing  the  spray  aside. 

Two  things  very  soon  became  evident :  first,  that  the 
strange  sail  had  seen  the  Castile;  and  secondly,  that 
she  preferred  running  to  fighting. 


A  Dashing  Engagement.  201 

Discretion  is  the  better  part  of  valour,  especially  in  a 
Frenchman's  idea. 

Every  one  who  could  form  any  excuse  for  coming  on 
deck  now  came.  The  officers,  senior  and  junior,  walked 
rapidly  up  and  down  the  quarter-deck  or  waist,  the  men 
moved  about  forward  or  leant  about  the  bows  and  winch, 
discussing  the  probabilities  of  a  bit  of  fun,  and  telling 
yarns  of  fights  they  had  been  in  in  days  gone  by. 

But  hours  went  by,  and  the  chase  was  apparently  but 
little  nearer. 

The  Castile  might  carry  stu'nsails.  They  were  tried, 
and  the  speed  increased.  This  was  good.  No  matter  if 
they  did  carry  away,  there  were  spare  spars  on  board. 

They  were  gaining  on  her  now !  What  brooked  it  ? 
The  sun  would  soon  be  setting.  Indeed,  in  half  an  hour 
his  lower  limb  began  to  flirt  with  the  rising  waves ; 
soon  the  sun  would  be  buried  entirely  by  a  sea,  appearing 
again  red  and  angry,  only  to  sink  again,  and  finally  go 
down  for  good. 

Then  the  gauzy  veil  of  gloaming  was  drawn  over  sky 
and  ocean,  the  stars  blinked  out,  and  by-and-by  it  was 
night. 

Every  light  was  hidden  on  the  Castile,  and  none  ap- 
peared on  the  Frenchman. 

"  In  stu'nsails  now,"  said  Captain  Oldrey,  "and  shorten 
sail." 

"Are  we  wise  in  doing  so  ?  "  asked  Lieutenant  Hayes. 

"  I  think  so,  Mr.  Hayes.  This  is  my  idea :  you  see 
that  craft  was  on  the  same  lines  as  ourselves  when  we 


202  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

sighted  her.  She  is  going  south,  and  it  will  be  to  her 
advantage  to  let  us  on  ahead,  if  she  can.  She  will  think 
we  will  crack  on/and  she — well,  Fm  much  mistaken  if  we 
don't  find  her  far  down  to  leeward  and  astern  of  us  to- 
morrow morning,  if  we  just  hang  around  or  go  ahead 
easy." 

"  Very  well,  sir,  we'll  see." 

"  The  captain's  orders  were  carried  out  therefore,  and 
the  Castile  went  but  slowly  through  the  water." 
She  was  waiting. 

The  evening  wore  on  somewhat  anxiously  for  all  on 
board.     The  lookouts  were  stationed  aloft  in  the  bows, 
waist  and  stern. 
But  never  a  light  was  seen. 

"I  say,"  said  Dick-Eae  to   Willie  Grant,     The  two 
young  men  were  leaning  over  the  bows.    "  I  think  I  can 
smell  powder." 
" Do  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  boy,  I  think  we'll  have  a  fight  to-morrow, 
hand-to-hand,  boarding,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Won't  it  be  a  lark  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  the  lark.     Up  in  the  Baltic,  of 
course  I  was  under  fire,  but  you   said  that  was  nothing. 
I  thought  it  pretty  hot ;  so  according  to  your  idea  this 
will  very  likely  be  my  first  real  fight.     Heigho  !  " 
"  What  are  you  heigho-ing  about  ?    Eh  ?  " 
"  Not  much ;  only,  if  there  be  boarding,  I  hope  I  won't 
be  in  a  funk.     But,"  he  added  after  a  pause,  "  I  only 
hope  and  pray  I  may  be  able  to  see  my  duty,  and  that 


A  Dashing  Engagement.  203 

God  will  give  me  the  strength  to  go  straight  for  it.  Mind 
you,  Dick-Ilae,  if  I  can  see  it,  I'll  have  a  good  shy  at  it, 
even  if  it  means  being  cleft  to  the  teeth  by  a  Frenchee's 
cutlass.  I'm  a  dreadful,  worrying,  nervous  kind  of  a 
fellow." 

"  Ay,  lad,  and  that  very  nervousness  will  carry  you  on 
and  through  with  flying  colours.  As  to  being  cleft  to 
the  teeth,  frogs  don't  give  power  to  do  it." 

"  Frogs  ?  " 

"  Yes,  those  Frenchees  eat  frogs  and  all  kinds  of  soft 
slobbery-bobbery  food.  It  doesn't  feed  the  muscles  nor 
steel  the  heart ;  it  takes  beef  to  do  that." 

"  You've  been  in  lots  of  fights,  Dick-Rae.  How  does 
it  feel ?  " 

"Well,  I  can  hardly  tell  you.  My  first  fight  I  re- 
member  most  about.  I  was  very  excited,  quite  a  lot  of 
our  fellows  were  put  Jwrs  tie  combat.  It  was  a  brush  with 
two  piratical  dhows  we  were  having  in  the  Persian  Gulf, 
all  guns,  no  hand  to  hand  work  or  boarding.  The  decks 
were  all  over  blood  and  sawdust,  and  so  full  of  smoke 
you  could  hardly  see  the  men  at  the  gun  nearest  to  you. 
Then  I  kept  sweating;  so  I  tore  off  my  clothes,  garment 
after  garment,  till  I  was  naked  to  the  waist.  I  kept 
sweating  and  coughing  so  that  I  could  hardly  speak. 
But  I  was  glad,  oh,  so  glad,  when  the  battle  was 
over ! " 

"  Why,  because  danger  was  past  ?  " 

"  No  ;  somehow  I  forgot  to  think  about  the  clanger.  I 
was  glad  because  I  was  so  fearfully  hungry ;  and  I  can 


204  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

tell  you,  that  as  soon  as  I  had  the  chance,  I  found  my 
way  to  the  steward's  pantry." 

Willie  Grant  laughed  heartily  at  this  description  of 
his  friend's  first  Gght,  and  the  conversation  took  another 
turn. 

There  was  hardly  a  sound  all  through  the  live-long 
night  to  break  the  stillness.  The  men  even  trod  the 
decks  softly,  and  talked,  if  they  talked  at  all,  in  whispers. 
There  was  the  occasional  flap  of  a  sail,  the  rattling  of  the 
rudder  chains,  the  creak  of  the  turning  wheel,  or  the 
rush  of  the  water  around  the  bows,  and  its  speaking 
ripple  along  the  sides ;  but  saving  these  no  other  sounds. 

The  day  broke  at  last,  and  gradually  as  it  got  lighter, 
Mr.  Hayes  scanned  the  horizon  with  his  glass  from  the 
main-top. 

Hayes  was  not  an  excitable  officer,  but  when  a  little 
round  picture  appeared  at  the  end  of  his  telescope,  partly 
grey  sea,  partly  grey  sky,  and  in  the  centre  the  top-masts 
of  a  ship  in  full  sail,  he  gave  vent  to  just  one  little  sharp 
"  Hurrah !  "  though  it  wasn't  meant  for  any  one's  ears 
save  his  own. 

Then  down  he  swung  and  entered  the  captain's  cabin 
and  made  his  report. 

Captain  Oldrey  was  on  deck  in  less  than  five  minutes; 
sail  was  clapped  on  her  now,  and  the  Castile  tore  away 
through  the  water  in  chase  once  more. 

The  captain  was  in  high  glee. 

"Let  the  men  have  a  good  breakfast,  Mr.  Hayes. 
There  is  a  round  of  beef,  and  a  lordly  one  too,  in  my 


A  Dashing  Engagement.  205 

stewai'd's  pantry.  Let  them  have  it  all,  and  the  mutton 
also,  if  there  be  any." 

Captain  Oldrey  was  physiologist  enough  to  know  that 
men  fight  but  poorly  on  an  empty  stomach. 

Dick-Rae  went  down  below  to  breakfast,  the  other 
fellows  being  already  seated  discussing  that  meal.  Dick 
was  rubbing  his  hands  and  laughing.  Rubbing  his  hands 
as  if  they  had  been  cold.  But  cold  they  could  not  have 
been  on  so  gladsome  a  morning,  for  surely  a  brighter 
sun  never  smiled  over  a  blue  and  sparkling  ocean.  The 
wind  raised  but  little  sea,  and  the  wavelets  danced  on 
its  surface,  reflecting  the  light  from  their  sides  as 
diamonds  do.  There  were  gulls  about  in  dozens,  the 
wide-winged  albatross  wheeled  round  too,  and  the  birds 
screamed  as  if  in  delight ;  while  ever  and  anon  from  thu 
water  flying-fish  leapt  up  and  went  skimming  along  over 
the  surface,  as  if  they  were  trying  to  make  believe  they 
were  birds,  and  hoped  to  be  so  in  reality  some  day. 

No,  Dick-Rae's  hands  were  not  cold,  but  he  rubbed 
them  again,  and  laughed,  as  he  said, — 

"  Benbow,  old  man,  now  for  a  row,  now  to  punish  the 
Froggies.  Benbow,  honour  and  glory  await  thee  !  " 

"Bother  honour  and  glory  !  "  replied  the  midshipman. 
"  I  want  to  get  the  prize-money,  and  perhaps  promotion. 
Don't  forget,  Dick-Rae,  that  I've  got  to  get  spliced  when 
the  cruise  is  over.  Sit  down  and  eat. 

<:  I  say,  men/'  cried  Willie  Grant,  coming  into  the 
gun-room  after  a  while.  "What  do  you  think?  We 
are  coming  up  hand-over-hand  with  the  French  frigate. 


206  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

She  is  bigger  tbau  us.  She  is  sending  down  her  top- 
gallant masts." 

"  Ha  !  then  she  means  having  it  out  with  us,"  said 
Old  Beiibow.  The  captain  of  that  ship  has  long  guns  on 
board  and  a  long  head  on  his  shoulders.  He  would  have 
got  away  if  he  could,  but  as  he  can't,  he  means  making 
the  best  of  it  and  fighting.  Bravo  !  Frenchee.  Pass  the 
pork." 

As  speedily  as  possible  now,  the  Castile  was  put  into 
the  best  fighting  trim,  and  an  hour  afterwards  the  drum 
began  to  beat  to  quarters.  Before  it  had  well  ceased, 
every  man  was  at  his  post,  fore  and  aft. 

Then  came  a  brief  spell  of  solemn  stillness,  during 
which  many  a  prayer  went  up  before  the  throne  of  Him 
who  holds  the  sea  and  all  it  contains  in  the  hollow  of 
His  hand,  and  Who  alone  is  the  giver  of  victory. 

Captain  Buckram's  marines  were  a  pretty  show,  and 
the  gallant  soldier  was  justly  proud  of  them. 

The  French  frigate  was  still  ahead,  the  Castile  working 
gradually  up  to  her. 

About  four  bells  in  the  forenoon  watch,  the  action  was 
commenced  by  a  shot  from  the  bows  of  the  Britisher,  to 
which  the  enemy  right  saucily  replied  from  her  stern 
chasers.  She  was  then  seen  to  take  in  more  sail,  and 
when  the  Castile  was  well  up  to  her,  she  luffed,  bringing 
her  broadside  guns  to  bear  upon  and  rake  our  frigate 
from  bows  to  stern.  This  was  a  pretty  movement,  but 
checked ;  for  the  Castile  went  round  nicely,  and  received 
the  chaste  salute  in  a  less  vulnerable  position. 


A  Dashing  Engagement.  207 

"  Hard  a-port !  "  roared  the  captain.  "  Stand  by  the 
guns,  gentlemen,  to  let  her  have  it." 

Round  swung  the  Castile  again,  and  next  minute  had 
•walked  to  windward  of  the  enemy,  right  alongside  and 
close  aboard. 

"  Give  it  to  them  now  !  " 

The  Castile's  broadside  made  the  Frenchman  reel,  but 
she  was  heavily  gunned,  and  heavily  manned,  and  fought 
like  a  floating  fury.  Off  and  on,  for  half  an  hour  and 
more,  the  two  ships  battered  each  other,  and  the  damage 
done  to  both  was  considerable. 

Once  more  the  Frenchman  nearly  got  in  a  position  to 
rake  the  Castile.  Once  more  her  kind  intentions  were 
frustrated,  the  two  vessels  colliding  for  some  minutes, 
then  separating. 

But  the  raking  came  from  the  other  side  at  last,  and 
the  Frenchman's  decks  were  swept,  her  mizen  went  a 
few  feet  from  the  board,  and  her  very  scuppers  ran 
blood. 

Soon  after  this  the  two  ships  closed,  both  being  eager 
to  board. 

With  guns  mouth  to  mouth  now,  the  battle  raged. 
Then  smoke  began  to  curl  up  the  fore  hatch  of  the 
enemy.  She  was  on  fire  ! 

No  time  was  to  be  lost. 

"Away,  boarders  !  "  shouted  the  captain. 

"  Now,  my  lads  ! "  cried  Buckram  to  his  gallant 
marines. 

Next  moment  the  war  was  carried  to  the  battle  deck 


208  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

of  the  Frenchman,  and  brave  indeed  was  the  defenc 
they  made. 

Bat  what  could  stand  the  gallant  onset  of  our  blu 
jackets  and  marines  ?  Stripped  to  the  waist,  just  as  the 
had  fought  at  their  guns,  the  former  had  rushed  to  thi 
attack,  and  closed  with  the  foe  with  a  determination  tha 
would  not  be  denied.  The  din  was  terrible  for  a  time ;  i 
was  as  if — 

"  Men  fought  upon  the  sea, 
And  fiends  in  upper  air ! " 

Not  only  our  marines,  but  even  our  sailors  were  com 
posed  of  different  nationalities;  so  amid  the  shouting 
and  shrieking,  and  the  ringing  of  pistol  and  muske 
shots,  could  be  heard  the  hearty  "  hurrah  !  "  of  the  Eng 
lish,  the  shriller  war-cry  of  the  Irish,  and  high  over  al 
the  wild  slogan  of  the  Highlanders,  with  their  "  Scotlam 
yet,  and  Scotland  for  ever  !  " 

Up  in  the  tops  of  both  vessels  marines  were  stil 
exchanging  salutes.  But  soon  the  battle  was  over,  anc 
the  French  colours  hauled  down.  None  too  soon,  foi 
the  fire  was  rapidly  gaining  the  mastery,  and  flames 
began  to  creep  up  the  masts  before  the  wounded  and 
prisoners  could  be  got  on  board. 

Some  stores  were  also  saved,  and  the  British  sailors 
managed  to  do  a  little  looting  on  their  own  account— 
sub  rosd,  of  course. 

Then  the  Castile  cast  loose,  hauled  off  and  left  the 
great  French  frigate  to  her  fate.  She  blazed  for  an  hour, 
then  blew  up  with  terrific  force,  sending  burning  spars, 


"  '  Conduct  me  to  the  commandant,'  says  he  boldly,  in  French." 

[Page  217. 


A  Dashing  Engagement.  209 

masts,  half-charred  boats,  and  flaming  yards   high  into 
the  blue  sky. 

A  minute  afterwards  she  went  down  head  first,  and 
the  Castile  proceeded  on  her  voyage,  making  the  best  cf 
her  way  to  St.  Helena,  there  to  land  her  prisoners  and 
undergo  repairs. 


CHAPTER  X. 

JOLLITY   IN   CABIN   AND    KOUND    THE    GALLEY    FIRE. 

"  WHILE  whim  and  glee  and  jest  and  song 

Display  their  charming  treasure, 
Mingling  in  gay  laughter's  throng, 

Come  to  the  camp  of  pleasure. 
Youth's  joy's  season,  so  is  age  ; 

Each  temper,  sex,  complexion, 
In  mirth  may  harmlessly  engage, 

As  well's  in  sage  reflection." 


HE  captain  of  the  French  frigate  and  his 
first  lieutenant  had  both  fallen  mortally 
wounded  at  the  time  the  vessel  was  raked 
by  the  Castile. 
In  all  the  enemy  had  lost  nearly  one  hundred  in 
killed  and  wounded,  so  fierce  had  been  the  engagement, 
so  determined  the  resistance.  Of  our  own  fellows  many 
had  fallen  never  to  rise  again,  but  no  officers  were  killed. 
Willie  Grant,  however,  was  wounded,  and  Mr.  Hayes 
was  shot  through  the  left  hand. 

About  a  week  after  the  fight,  without  further  adven- 
210 


Jollity  in  Cabin  and  round  the  Galley  Fire.  211 

tnre,  the  Castile  landed  the  Frenchmen  safely  at  Sfc. 
Helena :  there  to  languish  in  prison,  or  to  be  put  on 
parole,  until  a  chance  turned  up  of  sending  them  to 
Porchester  Castle,  England. 

As  all  our  wounded  were  now  doing  well,  Captain 
Oldrey  thought  himself  justified  in  giving  a  dinner 
party  in  his  own  quarters. 

How  elastic  youth  is !  Although  for  the  first  night 
Dick-Eae  sat  by  Willie,  looking  more  serious  probably 
than  any  one  had  ever  seen  him  before,  his  friend  was 
now  so  far  recovered  as  to  permit  of  his  being  carried  into 
the  captain's  cabin,  and,  propped  up  on  a  sofa,  thus  see 
the  other  fellows  dining,  though  he  could  not  join  them. 

There  were  gunroom  officers  around  Captain  Oldrey's 
mahogany  that  night,  as  well  as  wardroom  officers,  and 
every  one  who  sat  down  was  in  the  highest  of  spirits  and 
best  of  form. 

The  fight  with  the  Frenchman  naturally  formed  the 
Bubject  of  discourse  for  some  time  at  the  table. 

((  And  so,  Dr.  Hunt,"  said  the  captain,  "  your  patients 
are  all  doing  well  ?  " 

"  Very  well  indeed,  sir,  including  our  friend  on  the 
sofa." 

The  captain  looked  round  to  where  Willie  lay  listening. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  he  said.  "  Have  some  wine,  Mr.  Grant  ? 
May  he,  doctor  ?  " 

"  If  he  cares  to." 

"  No,  thank  you,  sir,"  was  Willie's  reply.  "  I'm  so 
jolly  and  comfortable  as  I  am.  I'll  have  some  fruit,  but 


212  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

wine  would  flush  my  face,  and  make  me  feel  hot  and 
uncomfortable." 

"  Hayes/'  said  Dr.  Carver,  "  looks  quite  the  hero  with 
his  hand  carried  in  a  sling,  and  his  somewhat  pale  face. 
Wouldn't  he  interest  ladies  now  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  what  he  looks  like,  doctor,"  cried  Cap- 
tain Oldrey  enthusiastically;  "he  fought  splendidly.  Mr. 
Salmon  there  witnessed  the  boarding  and  carrying  of  the 
Frenchman  from  the  quarter-deck." 

Now  Salmon  was  the  parser's  assistant  or  head  clerk, 
a  bit  of  a  "  masher  "  in  his  way,  though  there  was  no 
such  slang  term  in  those  days.  It  had  been  his  duty  to 
stand  near  the  captain  daring  the  action  and  take  notes. 
If  the  truth  must  be  known,  he  had  been  in  a  mortal 
fright  from  first  to  last. 

He  now  gave  himself  airs,  however,  and  to  hear  him 
talk  amused  Dick-Eae  immensely. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Salmon,  "  I  had  the  honour  of  being 
by  your  side,  sir,  during  the  whole  engagement,  and  here 
are  rny  notes." 

"You  weren't  afraid,  were  you  ?  "  said  Dick-Kae. 

"  Afraid  !  Deah  me  !  How  can  you  ask  so  stoopid  a 
question  ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  Dick,  "  I  was." 

"Doctor  Curver,"  said  Salmon  haughtily,  "I  don't 
mean  to  insinuate  that  I  am  a  hero ;  but,  sir,  the  Sal- 
mons came  over  with  the  Conqueror,  and  I  wish  you  to 
take  that  notebook  in  your  hand,  and  tell  us,  and  espe- 
cially this  young  gentleman,  the  Hon.  de  Grey,  if  you 


Jollity  in  Cabin  and  round  the  Galley  Fire.  213 

observe  any  indication  of  nervous  tremor  in  the  hand- 
writing ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest,"  replied  Curver  after  a  moment's 
scrutiny. 

Now  Dick-Rae  knew  well  enough  that  the  clerk  had 
written  a  second  copy  of  the  scrawly  notes  he  had  pen- 
cilled down  on  deck,  but  he  was  not  the  one  to  tell  tales 
out  of  school. 

He  took  the  notebook  from  Dr.  Curver's  hands  and 
looked  at  it ;  then, — 

"  I  really  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Salmon ;  the  writing  is 
almost  as  devoid  of  any  indication  of  nervous  tremor  as 
if — ahem  !  I'd  written  it  myself." 

Everybody  laughed,  and  the  clerk  turned  red. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  soon  regaining  his  self-possession, 
"  I  have  named  nearly  all  the  officers  who  distinguished 
themselves.  Mr.  Hayes  specially,  and  Mr.  Buchanan, 
who  fought  like  a  Scottish  lion.  And  Captain  Buckram, 
sir,  I  was  pleased  to  note  how  gallantly  you  maintained 
a  hand-to-hand  fight  against  three  of  the  enemy.  You 
stood  on  the  skylight,  sir,  and  I  saw  the  fellows  fall  ono 
by  one.  It  was  beautiful,  sir,  beautiful.  Young  Grant," 
continued  the  clerk,  "  fought  like  a  positive  pole-cat." 

"  H'm,"  said  Dick-Rae,  "  Willie  was  at  the  positive 
end  of  the  pole,  and  I  suppose  I  was  at  the  negative." 

"  You  are  mentioned  farther  on,  in  a  general  way,  you 
know " 

"  One  to  you,  Dick-Rae  !  "  cried  Old  Benbow. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Jack  Williams  !  "  the   clerk  went  on,  « I 


214  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

was  very  pleased  indeed  to  have  such  evidence  of  your 
courage  all  through  the  engagement." 

Old  Benbow  bowed. 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain,  "  I  must  say  I  was  pleased 
with  every  one  of  my  officers,  and  I  have  no  doubt  our 
gallant  surgeons  down  amidst  the  heat  and  smoke  of  the 
cockpit  did  their  duty  like  heroes.  Gentlemen,  I  thank 
you  all." 

There  are  people  in  this  world  ill-natured  enough  to 
say  that  this  little  party  of  Captain  Oldrey's  was  a  kind  of 
mutual  admiration  meeting;  but  I  do  not  think  it  could 
be  fairly  and  honestly  called  so,  albeit  the  conversation 
for  the  most  part  hinged  upon  the  recent  fight  with  the 
Frenchmen. 

And  I  do  not  marvel  at  it.  It  was  a  tough  fight  to 
begin  with,  and  no  one  except  those  who  have  actually 
undergone  it,  could  believe  the  amount  of  nervous  excite- 
ment such  an  action  produces  on  the  system.  It  is  not 
felt  at  the  time,  but  afterwards,  and  talking  is  the  only 
cure  for  it. 

Forward  it  was  just  the  same,  only  as  soon  as  the  main 
brace  was  spliced,  the  honest  tars  set  themselves  down 
to  tell  stories,  or  spin  yarns  as  they  called  it,  and  every 
now  and  then  a  song  with  a  rattling  chorus  came  in. 
The  yarns  generally  commenced  with  words  like  the 
following, — 

"  When  I  was  in  the  old  Goliath,  Bill,"  or, 

"  I  was  captain  o'  the  main-top  in  the  Centaur"  or, 

"  I  say,  Jack,  and  that  reminds  me." 


Jollity  in  Cabin  and  round  the  Galley  Fire.  215 

Around  the  galley  fire  the  men  criticise  the  actions  of 
their  officers  pretty  freely,  and  very  much  to  the  point 
indeed ;  and  it  would  not  do  these  gentlemen  much  good 
at  times  to  be  listening.  To-night  they  had  nearly  every 
one  on  the  boards.  The  captain  was  a  brick,  and  as 
cool  as  steel.  Mr.  Hayes,  the  first  luff,  was  "  a  gentle- 
man, every  inch,  and  I  dares  any  on  ye  to  say  he  ain't." 

Lieutenant  Buchanan :  "  My  eye !  Bill,  isn't  he  a 
fellow  to  fight.  See  the  way  the  Scotties  all  got  round 
him  when  he  got  under.  Yes,  old  Buck  may  like  a 
glass,  like  the  rest  on  us ;  bub  he's  a  buffer  to  fight,  I 
says,  says  I." 

Young  Grant :  "  Ain't  he  a  sturdy  chap ;  another  Scot, 
too.  I  saw  him  sheath  that  dirk  of  his  into  a  Froggee 
that  could  'ave  eaten  him  up — swallowed  him,  in  fact, 
and  looked  none  bigger  for  it.  I  could  'ave  cried  when  I 
saw  him  fall.  It  was  a  back  shot,  and  Fred  Bligh  there 
cut  the  Frenchee's  head  clean  off." 

Captain  Buckram :  "  A  pretty  soldier ;  fought  well, 
but  not  so  easy  like  as  we  Jacks  like.  If  he'd  taken  off 
his  stock,  now,  and  his  coat — ah  !  then  he'd  'ave  looked 
double  the  indiwidual." 

Midshipman  Jack  Williams  :  "  Well,  you  know,  mess- 
mates, he  is  one  of  ourselves,  and  if  he  couldn't  fight, 
who  could  ?  Been  afore  the  mast  has  Old  Benbow,  as 
the  boys  call  'im.  The  king  can  make  an  officer,  maties, 
but  it  takes  Some  One  more  than  man — with  reverence 
be  it  spoken — to  make  a  sailor." 

"  Now,  messmates,"  said  Paddy  Flint,  "  there  is  one 


216  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

officer  that  sure  none  av  yez  has  said  a  word  about  at  all, 
and  that  is  Mr.  Salmon,  the  purser's  clerk,  as  nate  and 
as  purty  a  boy  as  you'd  meet  in  a  dhrive  twixt  Cork  and 
Bally  Poreen. 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "     There  was  a  chorus  of  laughing. 

"  Why,  I'd  put  the  young  lubber  in  a  band-box  and 
pack  him  home  to  his  mother." 

"  Keel  haul  him." 

"  He  wouldn't  stand  it;  he'd  melt.  Dress  him  in  petti- 
coats and  send  him  to  a  girls'  boarding  school." 

"  Hear !  hear  !  " 

"  And  what  think  ye,  men,  of  our  little  honourable  ?  " 

"  Yes,  last  and  least." 

"  Well,  now,  for  a  gent  as  is  a  real  gent,  and  a  nob 
into  the  bargain,  I  say  he's  a  little  hero.  My  stars  !  he 
was  in  the  thick  of  it  in  that  boarding  brush." 

"  Wonder  he  wasn't  killed." 

"  He's  too  small  to  see,  that's  how." 

"It's  his  cheek  that  carries  him  through,"  said  an 
old  sailor.  "  Now  I  was  in  a  queer  scrape  two  years  ago 
with  this  young  honourable,  and,  mind  ye,  he  was  smaller 
then  than  now.  It  was  like  this,  maties.  We  were  in 
the  old  Ruly,  just  cruisin'  around  the  French  coast  like, 
picking  up  whatever  we  could  see,  and  now  and  then 
havin'  a  bit  of  a  brush  with  a  fort  and  a  skirmish  on 
shore  to  give  us  an  appetite  for  breakfast.  Well,  there 
was  a  newly  erected  fort  on  a  point  o*  land,  and  it  was 
saucy  enough  to  fire  at  us.  '  Bother  it/  says  our  skip- 
per, c  we  can't  stand  this  nohow.  We'll  land  and  take  it.' 


Jollity  in  Cabin  and  round  the  Galley  Fire.  217 

"  The  point  o'  land  was  separated  from  the  mainland 
by  a  kind  of  bushy  marsh,  and  near  here  about  one  in 
the  morning — and  a  fine  summer's  night  it  was — we 
landed,  intending  to  march  upon  the  fort  from  the  rear, 
blow  in  the  gates  and  shiver  the  garrison. 

"  But  la  Jobless  you,  maties,  we  reckoned  athout  our 
host  for  oBMTin  a  way ;  for,  if  there  wasn't  half  a  com- 
pany^Bfcfcjlgers  encamped  in  the  bush.  They  attacked 
us  winPlnch  a  suddenness  that  our  fellows  were  driven 
back  to  the  boats  and  re-embarked,  all  but  poor  me  and 
the  young  honourable.  We  had  been  well  ahead,  and  the 
Frenchees  hadn't  seen  us. 

" c  Never  mind,'  says  he ;  '  come  on  to  the  fort, 
Jack.' 

"  '  You're  never  going  there,'  I  says. 

" '  But  we  are/  he  says,  says  he,  '  D'ye  think,'  he 
says,  '  we're  goin'  to  be  taken  prisoners  like  a  couple  o' 
sheep.  Come  on,  Jack/  says  he,  'courage  and  cheek 
will  carry  us  through  anythink.' 

" f  Lead  on,'  says  I,  and  away  we  went.  And  the 
young  honourable  pulls  a  white  'ankerchief  out  o'  his 
breast,  and  draws  his  dirk  and  makes  a  flag  o'  truce. 
Then  he  goes  boldly  up  to  the  gate. 

" '  Conduct  me  to  the  commandant/  says  he  boldly,  in 
French.  I  knows  a  little  o'  this  lingo  myself,  though  I 
can't  get  my  tongue  round  it  like. 

"  The  officer  o'  the  guard  was  called. 

"'The  commandant's  asleep/  says  he.  'Is  it  very 
pressing  ? ' 


218  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

" '  It's  so  pressing/  says  the  honourable,  says  he,  '  that 
if  you  don't  send  a  message  to  the  commandant  telling 
him  that  an  officer  of  the  Ruby  has  arrived  with  a  flag 
o'  truce,  I  wouldn't  be  in  your  boots  for  all  that's  on 
earth,  Mister  Moosoo.3 

"  Away  goes  Mister  Moosoo. 

" '  Let  us  follow  him,  quiet  like,'  says  the  honourable. 
'  Do  as  I  do,  and  never  fear.' 

"  So  after  Mr.  Moosoo  we  goes,  dawdling  like,  and  the 
honourable  was  a  whistling.  But  no  sooner  was  Mister 
Moosoo  round  one  tent,  than  the  honourable  and  I  whips 
round  another. 

"  '  Come  on,  Jack,'  he  says ;  '  let  us  make  our  feet  our 
friends  for  our  precious  lives.' 

"  But  a  sergeant  spied  us  and  gave  the  alarm.  It  were 
sharp  work  then,  messmates,  I  can  tell  you.  But  round 
the  tents  we  dodges,  and,  as  good  luck  would  have  it, 
comes  to  the  wall.  The  fort  was  partly  stone  and  partly 
turf. 

"  Over  we  tottles,  and  down  the  sides,  and  plump  into 
the  ditch  over  head  and  ears. 

"  Musket  shots  rang  above  us  ;  bullets  pattered  on  the 
water,  but  over  we  swam  like  a  couple  o'  water  rats, 
clambered  up  and  made  tracks  for  the  beach. 

"  Ping— ping — ping  went  the  bullets  ;  but  neither  the 
little  honourable's  body  nor  mine  had  billets  for  'em. 

( ( Fortune  favours  the  brave.  Jack  ! '  cries  my  mite  of 
an  officer. 

"And  so  it  did;  for  there  was  a  boat,  oars  and  all 


Jollity  in  Cabin  and  round  the  Galley  Fire.  219 


complete.  And  iu  half  au  hour  we  were  round  the  point 
and  safe  on  board. 

"  Next  morning  our  marines  and  blue  jackets  landed 
in  force.  We  thrashed  the  sodgers  and  took  the  fort  in 
first-rate  style,  lads.  It  were  as  fine  and  fair  a  little  fight 
as  ever  I  seed  in  my  born  days,  maties.  And  the  first 
prisoner  we  took  was  Mr.  Moosoo  himself;  and  it  was  to 
the  honourable  he  gave  up  his  sword  too.  And  the 
honourable  takes  off  his  hat  and  says,  says  he, — 

"  '  Thank  you,  Mister  Moosoo/  he  says ;  f  may  I  ax  if 
the  commandant  is  awake  yet  ?  '  " 

So  ended  Jack's  yarn. 

"Bravo,  Jack  !  "  said  the  cook;  "  you  can  spin  a  good 
yarn." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack ;  "  and  what  I've  just  told  ye  is  as 
true  as  that  there's  a  quid  in  your  mouth,  matie." 


There  is  no  more  beautiful  scenery,  I  do  believe,  in  all 
the  wide  world  than  that  which  surmounts  that  broad 
sheet  of  water  called  Symon's  Bay.  The  mountains  are 
rugged  and  wild,  some  of  them  green-fringed  with  trees 
and  shrubs  at  the  foot,  and  higher  up  crimson  with 
heaths  and  geraniums.  The  rocks  that  for  miles  stand 
on  guard  twixt  land  and  sea  are  wild  and  fantastic.  In 
the  sea  itself  floats  many  a  strange  living  thing,  for  all 
of  which  even  naturalists  have  not  yet  found  names. 
The  sunrises  and  sunsets  are  often  gorgeous,  and  the 
cloudscapes  indescribably  beautiful. 


220  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

The  Castile  arrived,  after  an  extra  long  voyage,  at  the 
sweetest,  loveliest  time  of  the  year — the  springtime, 
•which  commences  here  in  September. 

She  arrived  at  night  off  the  bay,  and  a  clear,  bright 
moonlight  night  it  was.  The  captain  was  not  surprised 
to  find  no  less  than  five  privateers  dodging  about  or 
lying  to,  awaiting  their  chance  when  it  should  please 
the  merchant  ships  at  anchor  in  the  bay  to  set  sail. 

Would  they  fight?  The  men  prayed  they  might. 
But  their  game  was  up,  and  they  knew  it.  Their  motto 
now  was  flight,  not  fight;  and  no  flock  of  pigeons  ever 
scattered  more  speedily  at  sight  of  a  hawk,  than  did 
these  French  privateering  scoundrels  at  the  sudden 
appearance  of  the  Castile. 

The  frigate  fired  a  few  guns,  but  forbore  to  chase 
them,  having  encountered  heavy  weather  and  being  once 
more  sadly  in  need  of  repair. 

About  three  weeks  after  leaving  St.  Helena,  a  sad 
occurrence  had  taken  place. 

It  was  in  the  first  dog  watch,  and  about  the  middle 
of  it,  just  as  the  steward  in  the  wardroom  was  laying 
the  cloth  for  dinner,  that  the  startling  shout  of — 

"Man  overboard  !  "  resounded  through  the  ship. 

In  an  instant  all  was  stir  and  bustle  and  anxiety. 
The  helm  was  instantly  put  hard  down,  and  a  boat  was 
speedily  cleared  and  lowered. 

But  meanwhile,  divesting  himself  of  his  coat,  Willie 
Grant  had  dived  from  the  head  rail  into  the  sea,  and 
despite  the  wind  and  waves  was  making  his  way  to 


Jollity  in  Cabin  and  round  the  Galley  Fire.    221 

where  every  now  and  then,  as  he  rose  on  a  billow,  he 
could  see  the  poor  fellow  floating. 

Willie  was  a  powerful  swimmer  for  one  so  young, 
but  still  somewhat  weak  from  the  wound  he  had  re- 
ceived. Many  a  Highland  lake  a  full  mile  wide  had  he 
swam  across ;  but  Highland  lakes  present  no  such  sea  as 
he  had  now  to  contend  against. 

He  had  never  yet  attempted  to  save  life,  however, 
and  knew  actually  nothing  of  how  to  proceed,  and  could 
not  help  wondering  as  he  swam  on  and  on,  buffeting 
the  billows  and  swallowing  a  deal  of  salt  water,  if  he 
would  have  much  of  a  struggle. 

Alas  !  when  he  reached  the  spot,  he  had  little  to  con- 
tend against.  Poor  Mr.  Dance,  the  mate,  was  sinking 
for  the  last  time. 

Willie  threw  himself  on  his  back  as  he  clutched  the 
head — hair  was  worn  long  in  those  days ;  he  got  the 
head  on  to  his  breast,  and  there  rested,  floating  as  well 
as  he  could. 

What  a  long,  long  weary  time  it  seemed  !  Would  the 
boat  never  come.  Several  times  he  thought  he  heard  the 
sound  of  oars — it  was  but  the  rushing  wings  of  gulls 
that  floated  and  tacked  in  the  air  around  him. 

On  board  all  was  silence  and  deep  anxiety.  Poor 
little  Josh  was  silently  weeping  and — Scotch-boy  fashion 
— praying  to  God  to  restore  him  his  friend  ;  Dick-Rae 
walked  the  deck  most  restlessly,  and  every  one  observed 
how  pale  he  was. 

After  what  appeared    an   interminable  time  the  boat 


222  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

was  seen  returning;  it  bad  been  miles  astern,  as  the  ship 
had  not  been  put  about  with  judgment. 

As  soon  as  she  was  within  hail,  the  captain  shouted, 
"Is  the  officer  saved ? " 

"  Mr.  Grant  is  saved." 

"  Mr.  Dance  is  dead." 

These  were  the  replies. 

So  it  ever  is  on  board  ship  in  times  of  war.  Change, 
change,  change ;  and  the  sun  that  rises  joyfully  in  the 
morning  may  set  in  gloom  at  night. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MIDSHIPMAN'S  PKANKS. 

"  THOSE  joys  that  are  harmless,  what  mortal  can  blame  ? 

'Tis  my  maxim  that  youth  should  be  free  ; 
And  to  prove  that  my  words  and  my  deeds  are  the  same, 
Believe  me,  thou'lt  presently  see." 

— Dibdin. 

EITHER  incidents  nor  accidents  are  long 
remembered  on  board  a  ship  of  war;  at 
all  events  they  are  never  allowed  to  cast 
a  gloom  over  the  ship. 
The  sad,  solemn  service  was  conducted  over  poor 
Dance  and  his  body  committed  to  the  deep,  and  by  the 
time  the  vessel  had  been  a  week  at  Symon's  town,  his 
messmates  had  ceased  to  speak  of  him,  though  his 
memory  would  remain  green  in  their  minds  for  many 
a  day. 

One  afternoon  the  gunroom  officers  were  sitting  quietly 
talking  in  their  mess  place,  Smart  alone  studying  his 
everlasting  logarithms,  when  Lieutenant  Buchanan 
entered  his  own  cabin,  took  out  his  fiddle  and  began  to 
play. 

"  Bother  that  old  Scotch  lieutenant !  "  cried  Smart  at 


224  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

last,  pitchin  gaway  his  book.  "  There  is  no  sense  in  the 
rotten  old  Scotch  things  he  plays ;  the  fiddle  seems  to 
me  to  say  '  dram-dram,  diddley-dram,  dram  diddley-dee.' 
I'll  let  any  of  you  fellows  have  my  rum  for  a  week  who 
will  butter  Buchanan's  bow." 

"I  don't  want  your  rum/'  replied  Dick,  "but  I  will 
butter  the  bow." 

As  good  as  his  word,  no  sooner  had  the  Scotch  lieu- 
tenant gone  on  deck,  than  over  went  Dick-Rae  to  his 
cabin,  and  greased  both  bow  and  fiddle  strings  most 
liberally. 

Buchanan  would  be  down  again  presently  and  recom- 
mence to  play. 

Dick-Rae  waited  for  him,  and  just  as  he  appeared  at 
the  foot  of  the  ladder, — 

"  Oh !  sir/'  said  this  cheeky  midshipmite,  "  Willie 
Grant  and  I  want  to  go  shooting.  Would  you  kindly 
lend  us  your  fowling-piece.  I  think  Smart  is  looking 
for  you  to  ask  it,  as  I  saw  him  come  out  of  your  cabin ; 
but  you'll  give  it  to  me,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  That  I  will,  my  boy,  and  welcome." 

Back  went  Dick-Rae  to  his  mess  place.  He  knew 
what  was  coming.  Smart  had  recommenced  his  logar- 
ithms. Presently  in  dashed  Buchanan,  red  with  wrath, 
and  fiddle-bow  in  hand. 

"Which  of  you  did-did-did-dared  to  bub-bub-butter 
my  bow  ?  "  he  stammered. 

"  It  was  you,  Smart !  "  he  continued,  "  it  was  you,  you 
r-r-r-rascal." 


Midshipman1  s  Pranks.  225 

Poor  Smart  got  no  time  to  reply.  Down  came  the 
bow  across  his  cheek,  again  and  again  and  again. 
Buchanan  dealt  his  blows  like  wintry  rain,  till  the  bow 
was  broken  in  splinters. 

«  Well,"  cried  Smart,  "  I  call  that  jolly  hard." 

"  I'll  have  you  kie-kie-keel-hauled  if  you  say  a  word. 
Come  on,  De  Grey,  you're  worth  ten  of  a  chap  like  that." 

So  the  fiddling  was  stopped.  Dick-Rae  the  delinquent 
got  the  gun,  and  poor  Smart  had  a  hiding. 

"  I  say,  boys,"  said  the  midshipmite,  coming  in  five 
minutes  after,  and  triumphantly  exhibiting  the  fowling- 
piece.  "  I  say,  boys,  mark  my  words,  there  is  nothing 
in  this  world  succeeds  as  well  as  cheek.  Hurrah !  Now 
for  a  shot !  Now  for  sport  in  the  jungle  !  " 

Dick-Rae,  Willie  Grant,  and  Old  Benbow,  accordingly, 
asked  leave  next  morning,  and  having  dressed  in  plain 
clothes  started  off  in  pursuit  of  adventures. 

"  Bring  game  of  some  sort/3  said  Dr.  Hunt,  "  for  we 
are  pretty  short  in  the  mess,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Never  fear  !  "  was  the  reply,  "  we'll  bring  bags  well 
filled." 

With  the  party  went  Jock  the  Skye  terrier,  and  all 
had  guns,  while  provisions  had  not  been  forgotten,  and 
little  Josh  accompanied  them  to  carry  the  bags,  which 
they  were  confident  they  would  fill  to  repletion. 

The  town  ran  along  the  shore  for  some  distance,  then 
immediately  deserted  them  ;  or  in  other  words,  they  left 
the  town  and  began  to  ascend  the  hill-side  through 
scrubby  bush  and  along  a  rough  red  road  that  led  to 


226  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

the  right.  Once  well  up  among  the  mountains  and 
valleys,  they  left  the  road  altogether,  and  struck  straight 
away  through  the  heath  and  half-burned  grass.  They 
soon  found  that  the  hills  were  inhabited  by  many  curious 
kinds  of  snakes,  that  went  rustling  here  and  gliding 
there,  even  leaping  at  times ;  so  that  they  had  to  be  care- 
ful. Yonder,  basking  in  the  sunlight,  is  a  great  black 
snake  ;  he  seems  asleep,  but  springs  up  at  their  approach. 
Dick-Rae  bowls  him  over,  and  coolly  bags  him.  "Dr. 
Curver,"  he  said,  "  told  me  to  bring  him  all  the  speci- 
mens I  could  get." 

That  long  thong-looking  thing  is  the  deadly  whip- 
snake,  that,  they  say,  springs  on  you  backwards  form- 
ing a  hoop  and  striking  as  it  falls ;  and  that  short,  light 
thing,  the  terrible  sand-snake.  There  are  many  others, 
and  Dick-Rae  had  good  sport,  succeeding  finally  in 
shooting  a  splendid  specimen  of  the  much-dreaded  cobra. 

About  noon  they  came  to  rocks  and  boulders  on  a 
mountain  side,  and  for  hours  had  excellent  sport  among 
the  rock  rabbits.  They  required  to  stalk  them,  however, 
and  this  took  time. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  they  found  them- 
selves near  a  cool  streamlet  where  trees  grew,  from 
which  depended  many  a  queer-shaped  nest,  not  unlike 
the  straw-covered  flasks  of  Florence  oil  we  see  in  shops. 

The  grass  beneath  the  trees  was  very  green;  so  here 
they  laid  themselves  down,  and  being  as  hungry  as  the 
proverbial  hunter,  did  excellent  execution  among  the 
good  things  their  steward  had  provided  for  them. 


Midshipman's  Pranks.  227 

They  quenched  their  thirst  in  the  stream.  Old  Benbow 
had  a  smoke,  little  Josh  counted  the  contents  of  the  bag, 
which,  independent  of  the  snakes  or  rock-rabbits,  con- 
tained quite  a  number  of  bright-winged  beautiful  birds. 

Having  dined  and  rested,  they  went  on  again.  By-and- 
by,  in  the  bush  Dick  spied  some  large  and  strange- 
looking  birds.  He  knocked  one  down,  and  Old  Benbow 
knocked  down  another ;  when  they  picked  them  up,  they 
found  they  were  ordinary  barn-door  fowls. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Dick-Eae,  "the  mess  larder  is 
not  over-well  provided,  and  they  seem  wild." 

Willie  had  his  doubts,  but  said  nothing.  Soon  a 
Dutchman's  house  appeared  in  view,  and  up  they 
marched  in  a  body,  to  ask  for  water ;  the  afternoon  was 
hot,  and  they  were  thirsty. 

The  Dutchman  was  a  boer  of  the  most  boerish  class. 
He  refused  them  water  even,  but  a  very  pretty  young 
girl  made  up  for  it  by  bringing  out  a  large  dish  of 
whey. 

She  was  the  Dutchman's  youngest  sister.  Dick-Rao 
slipped  a  sovereign  into  her  hand. 

"  It's  conscience  money,"  he  said,  "  and  I  won't  tako 
it  back."  Dick  was  thinking  about  those  two  fowls. 

Her  brother  howled  at  her  to  come  in. 

She  smiled  so  sweetly,  said  "  ta-ta "  so  prettily,  and 
tripped  away  so  lightly,  that  Dick-Rae  fell  in  love  on  the 
spot,  and  as  they  went  away  he  cast  many  a 

"  Longing,  lingering  look  behind." 


228  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Time  flies  quickly  by  when  one  is  on  the  hill  with  gun 
in  hand ;  and  now  the  sun  went  down,  leaving  behind  it 
a  sky  of  dazzling  beauty  and  crimson  glory.  Very  soon, 
however,  twilight  deepened  into  night ;  as  there  could 
be  no  possibility  of  returning  till  next  day,  they  lit  a  fire 
in  the  lee  of  a  rock,  and  sat  down  to  supper. 

They  yarned  and  talked  for  hours,  then  the  fire  was 
replenished  and  down  they  lay, — 

"  To  sleep,  perchance  to  dream  !  " 

covered  by  a  great  Scotch  plaid  of  Willie's  that  Josh  had 
carried,  and  which  did  excellently  well  to  defend  them 
against  the  dew. 

Whether  Dick-Eae  dreamt  or  not,  I  cannot  say ;  but 
sure  enough  he  awoke  Willie  about  midnight.  There  was 
a  great  round  moon  in  the  sky,  and  bats  innumerable 
whirling  and  wheeling  about. 

"  Come  and  have  a  walk,  Willie  Grant,"  he  said  ;  "  it 
is  a  shame  to  sleep  on  so  glorious  a  night." 

"All  right !  "  said  Willie,  rubbing  his  eyes. 

And  off  they  went,  leaving  Old  Benbow  and  little  Josh 
to  snore  together. 

Now  I  do  not  know  how  it  happened,  but  happen  it 
did,  that  before  many  minutes  they  found  themselves 
close  once  more  to  the  Dutchman's  house. 

"  Let  us  serenade  that  lovely  girl,"  said  Dick-Eae. 

"All  right!     What  shall  it  be  ?" 
1 '  Auld  Lang  Syne/  it  is  simple  and  effective.     You 
take  the  air,  Fll  give  you  a  bass." 


Midshipman's  Pranks.  229 

Close  by  the  garden  gate  they  commenced, — 

"  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  never  brought  to  mind." 

Suddenly  a  casement  window  was  thrown  open,  a  white- 
dressed  figure  in  a  red  night-cap  appeared  before  them, 
bang  !  bang  !  went  two  barrels  of  a  gun,  and  down  went 
Dick. 

That  was  an  end  to  the  serenade.  Willie  got  his 
friend  away. 

"  Are  you  much  hurt  ?  " 

"  No,  not  at  all,"  said  Dick.  "  It  was  only  a  few 
scattered  shot,  and  old  Hunt  will  have  to  pick  them  out. 
But  that  was  the  brother.  Did  ever  you  hear  of  such  an 
ungrateful  and  unfeeling  brute  ? 

"  Music  hath  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  beast, 
A  hungry  middle  or  a  butcher's  dog  ;  " 

but  that  fellow  hasn't  got  a  soul — only  a  gizzard.    Bah  !  " 
What  with  rock-rabbits  and  birds,  the  bags  were  quite 
filled  next  forenoon,  and  they  went  on  board  singing. 

Dick-Eae  told  his  adventures,  and  set  Dr.  Hunt  to 
work  to  pick  out  the  shot.  And  they  had  a  splendid 
supper  that  night  in  the  gunroom,  consisting  not  only  of 
the  standing  ship's  delicacies  in  the  shape  of  salt-junk 
and  pork,  but  of  fish,  fowl,  and  curried  rock-rabbit. 
No  wonder  they  slept  soundly  after  it  ! 


There  is  no  one  in  a  middle's  mess  more  detested  than 


230  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

a  sneak ;  and  a  day  or  two  after  this  Mr.  Salmon,  the 
Beau  Brummel  of  the  ship,  was  caught  telling  Mr.  Hayes 
the  story  of  the  Dutchman's  fowls.  It  was  mean,  for 
he  had  partaken  of  them  himself,  both  for  dinner  and 
breakfast.  So  a  court-martial,  sub  rosa,  was  forthwith 
assembled  at  the  fo'c'sle,  and  without  a  dissentient  voice 
the  clerk  was  condemned  to  be  "cobbed." 

Accordingly,  next  morning,  between  five  and  six  bells, 
•while  the  junior  officers  were  busy  dressing  in  the  cock- 
pit, Mr.  Salmon,  purser's  assistant,  was  suddenly  extin- 
guished; for  a  flour  sack  clapped  over  his  head  and 
shoulders  shut  him  for  a  time  completely  out  of  the 
world. 

No  one  spoke  a  word  ;  but  the  young  man,  struggling 
and  shrieking  in  a  half-smothered  voice,  was  placed  face 
downwards  over  his  own  sea-chest,  and  the  cobbing  or 
flogging  commenced.  Midshipmen's  dirk  scabbards  and 
flat  rulers  were  the  instruments  of  punishment;  and 
every  member  of  the  mess,  time  about,  gave  him  one, 
the  dose  being  administered  in  three  rounds. 

Then  they  left  him,  and  when  he  succeeded  at  last  in 
tearing  off  the  sack,  he  found  each  of  his  messmates 
standing  by  his  chest  quietly  and  coolly  dressing. 

Salmon  was  wild.  They  should  dearly  rue  it.  It  was 
a  case  for  a  court-martial,  and  every  mother's  son  of  them 
would  be  turned  with  ignominy  out  of  the  service. 

Salmon  walked  up  to  the  sentry :  the  sentry  had  seen 
nothing.  He  accosted  the  ship's  corporal :  he  had  seen 
nothing  unusual.  He  spoke  to  little  Josh :  little  Josh 


Midshipman's  Pranks.  23.1 

had  been  too  busy  with  his  master's  things  to  know  what 
was  going  on. 

But  Salmon  "  planked  "  all  his  messmates  before  the 
first  lieutenant. 

"  Cobbed  you,  did  they  ?  I'm  truly  sorry.  You  have 
your  witnesses,  of  course  ?  No  !  Then  I  fear  I  can  do 
nothing  in  the  matter." 

"If  you  hand  him  over  to  me,"  said  Dr.  Hunt,  with 
something  very  like  a  smile  curvetting  around  his  lips 
and  dancing  in  his  eyes,  "  I'll  be  able  to  put  Mr.  Sal- 
mon all  to  rights,  sir.  We  have  a  good  supply  of  cold 
cream  in  the  dispensary." 

And  so  the  matter  dropped. 


When  Dick-Rae  went  on  shore  next  day,  he  made  a 
bargain  with  a  Caffre,  and  that  same  evening  he  brought 
off  two  monkeys,  a  big  baboon-looking  thing  and  a  very 
innocent  and  pretty  little  one,  and  forthwith  installed 
them  as  ship's  pets. 

Having  done  so,  he  went  and  asked  Lieutenant  Hayes 
for  leave  to  keep  them.  It  will  be  observed  that  Dick 
did  not  ask  before  but  after  buying  his  pets. 

"  Two  monkeys  !  "  said  Mr.  Hayes.  "  Well,  well,  I 
suppose  I  must ;  but  one  was  enough,  Mr.  do  Grey,  and 
now  we'll  have  three  of  you  I " 

Dick-Rae  pocketed  the  insult  and  rushed  off  to  order 
a  suit  of  sailor's  clothes  to  be  made  forthwith  for  the 
smallest  monkey. 


232  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

In  a  day  or  two  after  this  the  Wasp,  homeward  bound, 
came  into  Symon's  Bay,  and  the  admiral  of  the  station 
gave  orders  for  her  to  convoy  the  merchant  ships  ;  and 
as  for  the  Castile,  instead  of  going  back  to  England,  she 
got  orders  to  complete  her  repairs  forthwith  and  make 
all  sail  for  India,  around  the  coast  of  which  the  Malay 
pirates  were  committing  cruel  and  murderous  ravages. 

The  officers  were  not  sorry  for  this  turn  in  events,  and 
Dick-Eae  and  Willie  were  delighted.  It  gave  them  an 
opportunity  to  get  further  adventures  and  fun  inland. 

Accompanied  by  their  friend  Old  Benbow,  they  hired 
horses  and  a  guide  one  morning  and  set  off  for  Cape 
Town.  The  ride  was  a  most  charming  one.  Along  the 
shore  they  went  nearly  half  way,  galloping  over  the  hard 
sand,  and  splashing  and  shouting  through  the  shallow 
water  of  the  little  bays  that  barred  their  progress.  They 
dined  at  Eathfeldas,  sung  songs,  danced  hornpipes  on 
the  grass,  to  the  great  delight  of  a  bevy  of  Dutch  children, 
mounted  their  horses,  gave  three  cheers,  and  galloped  on 
again  as  merry  as  May  bees. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  they  got  into  Cape  Town. 
But  they  put  up  their  horses  at  the  best  hotel,  ordered 
their  beds,  and  dined  a  second  time.  Then  they  went 
to  such  places  of  amusement  as  were  possible  at  Cape 
Town  in  those  days.  On  their  return  they  had  supper, 
a  song,  and  a  yarn  or  two ;  then  went  to  bed  and  slept 
the  sleep  of  the  just,  or  of  sailor-lads — it  is  much  the 
same. 

Dick-Eae  had  the  happy   knack  of  enjoying  himself 


Midshipman's  Pranks.  233 

wherever  he  went,  and  neither  Willie  Grant  nor  Old 
Benbow  were  far  behind  him,  though  not  quite  so  fast. 

They  had  leave  for  four  days,  and  enjoyed  it  thoroughly. 
They  did  everything  on  earth  that  midshipmen  could  do, 
and  a  deal  that  no  midshipman  ever  did  before. 

As  they  started  for  home  at  last,  Dick-Rae  sighed  and 
said, — 

"  I'd  dearly  like  to  go  and  see  that  Dutch  boer  girl 
again.  But  no,  I  will  not ;  Fd  fight  with  her  brute  of 
a  brother.  Heigho  !  but  while  life  does  last  she  will  live 
in  my  miud  like  the  memory  of  some  beautiful  dream  !  " 

It  was  not  often  that  Dick-Rae  waxed  sentimental,  but 
he  was  a  strange  youngster  altogether. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

AN    IDYLLIC    VOYAGE. 

"  A  WET  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea, 

A  wind  that  follows  fast, 
And  fills  the  white  and  rustling  sail, 
And  bends  the  gallant  mast." 

— Allan  Cunnimjliam. 

"  A  LITTLE  maiden  frank  and  fair, 

With  rosy  lips  apart, 
And  sunbeams  glinting  in  her  hair, 
And  sunshine  in  her  heart." 

NT  the  morning  on  which   the    Castile  was 
appointed  to  sail  it  was  blowing  big  guns. 
The  captain  came  off  from  shore  about 
nine  o'clock. 
"  Think  you'll  try  it,  sir  ?  "  said  Mr.  Hayes. 
11  Well/'  replied  the  captain,  "between  you  and  me 
and  the  binacle  there,  I  think  it  is  folly  to  do  so ;  but 
what  d'ye  think  the  admiral  said  ?  " 
<c  I  couldn't  guess." 
"  'If  you're  afraid  to  go  out  to-day  you  know,  Captain 


An  Idijllic  Voyage.  235 

Oldrey,  I  advise  you  to  stay;  and  indeed,  Oldrey,  I  think 
it  best/  " 

"  Afraid,  indeed  !  " 

"  That's  what  I  said.  So  up  sail  and  anchor.  Is  our 
passenger  on  board  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  General  Fraser  and  his  little  girl  came  off 
early,  and  the  doctor  has  given  up  his  largo  cabin  to 
them.  A  cot  is  swung  for  the  child,  and  they  will  bo 
happy  and  comfortable  enough,  I've  no  doubt." 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Hayes." 

"  Hands — up — anchor  !  " 

The  wind  was  off  the  land,  but  the  sea  was  terrific.  In 
the  afternoon,  during  a  squall  and  fearful  thunderstorm 
that  made  the  day  as  dark  as  night,  the  ship  was  struck 
by  a  mountain  billow  that  washed  right  aft,  carrying 
everything  before  it,  and  alas  !  one  poor  fellow  was 
dashed  into  the  lee  scuppers  and  killed. 

Next  day  the  wind  had  moderated,  but  it  still  blew 
high  and  the  seas  were  glorious  to  behold.  The  sun 
sunk  lurid  and  angry,  and  the  storm  came  on  again;  and 
thus  it  was  for  nearly  a  week,  during  which  no  officer  or 
man  lay  down  at  night  in  dry  clothes. 

But  sea  and  wind  went  down  at  last,  and  the  weather 
became  warm  and  balmy. 

General  Fraser  and  his  daughter,  who  were  on  their 
way  to  Bombay,  now  came  on  deck  for  the  first  time, 
both  having  been  ill. 

Willie  Grant  was  leaning  over  the  bulwarks  watching 
the  busy  sea-birds — Cape  pigeons — that  went  circling 


236  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

and  screaming  round  the  ship,  alighting  every  now  and 
again  on  the  water  to  pick  up  some  morsel  that  had  been 
dropped  overboard,  when  he  felt  a  little  soft  hand  in 
his.  He  looked  wonderingly  round,  and  there  by  his 
side  stood  what  he  might  have  well  mistaken  for  a  fairy 
at  first  sight.  A  beautiful  blue-eyed  girl  of  some  eleven 
or  twelve  years,  with  a  red  silken  fez  on  her  head,  from 
under  which  light,  soft  tresses  fell  and  floated  over  her 
shoulders. 

"  The  captain  says  you  are  to  amuse  me." 
"  Does  he  ?  "  said  Willie.     "  And  who  are  you  ?  " 
"  I'm  Etheldiue,  but  pa  calls  me  Eth  ;  and  you  can 
call  me  Eth.     Amuse  me,  please." 
"  But  how,  Eth  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  know  !  catch  a  pretty  bird  for  me." 
Willie  felt  shy  at  first,  but  the  sport  broke  the  ice :   a 
piece  of  wood  was  floated  overboard,  with  a  long  string 
attached,   and  before   long   a   bird  was   entangled  and 
pulled  on  board. 

One  wing  was  clipped,  and  the  beautiful  creature  at 
once  installed  as  Eth's  pet,  and  strange  as  it  may  appear, 
this  bird  became  in  a  very  short  time  resigned  to  its 
fate,  and  fed  from  Eth's  hand. 

Although  the  precaution  of  shortening  the  flight 
feathers  of  one  wing  was  in  this  case  adopted,  still  it  is 
almost  unnecessary,  because  for  some  reason  best  known 
to  themselves,  these  Cape  pigeons,  when  once  caught,  go 
toddling  around  the  deck  without  evincing  any  inclina- 
tion to  fly  away. 


An  IdtjlUc  Voyage.  237 

The  voyage  to  India  was  a  very  long  one,  and  alto- 
gether quite  idyllic  in  a  manner  of  speaking. 

Long,  long  years  afterwards,  Willie  used  to  look  back 
to  the  two  months  spent  on  the  Castile  at  this  time  with 
fond  and  sweet  regret,  as  to  the  happiest  days  of  his 
eventful  and  chequered  life. 

What  though  at  times  the  waves  were  high  and  the 
wind  was  stormy  !  What  though  they  were  becalmed  for 
weeks  in  the  tropics  !  The  time  did  not  seem  long,  yet 
each  day  appeared  a  little  lifetime  in  itself, — a  dreamy, 
happy  lifetime,  from  the  time  the  morning  sun  flashed 
crimson  across  the  waters,  till  the  evening  lightning 
flashed  broad  and  clear  behind  the  clouds  that  lay  on  the 
horizon. 

When  from  this,  the  equatorial  zone,  the  Castile  lazed 
along  into  the  bright  waters  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  surely 
never  ship  looked  so  bright  and  clear  and  lovely.  Now- 
a-days  we  have  wretched  steam !  Just  think  of  the 
difference. 

Look  on  this  picture  and  then  on  that !  In  the 
steam-ship— the  vessel  with  those  horrid  little  letters 
s.s.  before  her  name — I  defy  the  best  and  cleverest 
sailor  that  ever  went  afloat  to  keep  himself  or  things 
about  him  clean.  If  there  is  any  wind  when  under 
steam,  it  is  nearly  sure  to  be  ahead ;  if  there  be  no  wind, 
the  forward  motion  of  the  ship  throws  the  smoke  aft,  and 
smuts  and  powdery  coal  keep  falling,  falling,  falling,  all 
day  long.  The  terrible  deposit  lies  on  the  deck,  on  the 
seats,  on  capstan,  binacle,  bulwarks,  or  rails ;  you  cannot 


238  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

sit  down,  or  put  a  hand  down  anywhere,  without  getting 
grimed  and  smutched. 

Down  below  it  is  just  the  same.  The  black,  perfidious 
powder  covers  the  plates,  and  the  white  tablecloth,  and 
the  paper  you  write  on,  and  your  water-colour  drawing. 
You  eat  it,  you  drink  if,  and  you  growl  at  it  from  morn 
till  dewy  eve,  and  worry  yourself,  and  feel  wicked  for 
doing  so,  till  you  hardly  can  say  your  pi-ayers. 

Then  the  noise  of  a  steamer  !  It  is  like  being  in  an 
old  mill  all  day,  and  far  worse ;  for  besides  the  constant 
grind  and  gride  of  the  engines,  there  is  the  rattling  of 
the  cinder  and  ashes  gear,  and  the  voices  of  the  men 
employed  thereon.  Ugh  ! 

But  look  at  our  Castile  !  She  is  gliding  along  over 
that  enchanting  sea,  with  stunsails  set  low  and  aloft,  for 
the  breeze  is  but  light.  The  waves  are  sparkling  in 
the  sunshine,  as  molten  crystal  would,  the  few  fleecy 
clouds  up  yonder  in  the  himmel  blue  cast  their  shadows 
here  and  there  on  the  sea,  changing  ultramarines  to 
shades  of  grey  and  green. 

There  are  skip-jacks  dancing  from  wave  to  wave,  and 
flying-fish  leaping  from  the  water,  and  now  and  then  a 
shark  may  be  seen. 

On  board  is  no  unseemly  noise,  no  grime  or  dust.  The 
ship's  sails  look  white,  and  in  the  sun's  rays  the  decks 
are  like  snow.  Look  at  the  sheen  on  that  mahogany 
binacle,  see  the  gold-like  glitter  of  the  brass  work  ! 
The  very  ropes — all  so  neatly  coiled— are  white,  so  are 
the  capstan  bars,  and  the  canvas  ventilators  that  con- 


An  Idyllic  Voyage.  239 

duct  the  refreshing  air  to  the  decks  beneath.  The  guns 
are  polished  and  black,  their  carriages  and  wheels  have 
been  scoured,  and  the  lanyards  themselves  are  pipe- 
clayed. 

And  the  good  ship  goes  nodding  and  cui'tseying  over 
the  waves,  and  you  can  hear  the  ripple  of  the  water  along- 
side, as  if  it  were  sea-nymphs  talking  to  each  other  in 
strange  but  musical  voices. 

A  contrast,  indeed,  'twixt  the  past  and  the  present ! 

I  wonder  how  many  pets  there  were  on  board  the 
Castile  at  this  time  ?  Let  us  re-count  them. 

1.  There  was  little  Josh  (N.B. — I  am  taking  them  as 
they  come,  and  not  in  order  of  merit  or  precedence)  — 
little  Josh,  captain  of  the  lee  scuppers,  assistant  cook's- 
mate,  loblolly  boy,  dog  man,  hen  wife,  and  general 
factotum.  Everybody  liked  this  mite  of  a  boy,  and  the 
livestock  thought  he  was  captain  of  the  ship  and  monarch 
of  all  he  surveyed.  The  men  used  to  play  ball  with  him, 
standing  in  a  hollow  square  and  pitching  Josh  in  all 
directions.  When  not  on  duty,  Josh  used  to  be  any- 
where or  everywhere.  Perhaps  the  doctor  would  sing 
out  to  the  sentry, — • 

"  Pass  the  word  for  Josh ." 

Yes,  but  where  was  Josh  ?  Well,  he  would  be  found 
at  last  on  the  top  of  the  main-truck,  perhaps,  or  astraddle 
of  the  jib-boom,  or  asleep  in  the  fore-top,  or  over  the  bows, 
or  under  a  boat,  or  in  any  other  queer  situation  what- 
ever. 

Josh  was  a    favourite  with  every  living  thing ;  and 


240  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

then  ihe  way  he  used  to  dance  attendance  on  Miss  Ethel- 
dine  ! 

He  was  her  slave,  just  in  the  same  way  that  the  Dugald 
Crayture  was  slave  to  Helen  McGregor,  wife  of  the  bold 
Rob-Roy,  and  I  believe  at  any  time  of  the  day  or  night 
Josh  would  have  risked  his  life  to  please  this  beautiful 
child. 

2.  Josh's  mangoose.      A  gift  from  Dr.   Carver,  pro- 
cured at  the  Cape.     A  kind  of  lemur,  a  long,  hairy  or 
furry  thing,  that  on  deck  would  creep  after  Josh  wherever 
he  went,  and  even  attempt  to  follow  him  into  the  rigging, 
He  loved  Josh  and  Josh  alone,  although  Etheldine  fed 
him,  and  he  tolerated  her. 

"  Goozie,"  as  he  was  called,  could  not  stand  the  Skye 
terrier,  but  would  sleep  between  Orion's  paws,  and  at 
night  curled  up  with  Josh. 

3.  Jock  the  Skye  :  never  out  of  one  row  till  he  got 
into  another.     He  was  so  long,  and  so  covered  with  hair, 
that   Eth,  when   she   wanted   to  give   him  a  morsel  of 
biscuit,  was  not  quite  certain  which  was  his  head  and 
which  his  tail;   and  sometimes,  I  have  been  told,  the 
sick-bay  man  mopped  the  sick-bay  deck  with  him,  or 
tried  to,  and  got  bitten  sweetly  for  doing  so.     Verdict : 
serve  him  right. 

4.  Orion  the  Newfoundland.     An  immense  fellow  he 
was,  so  gentle  withal  that  he  was  universally  loved  and 
respected,   even   by   the   ship's   cock.      Between  them, 
Willie  Grant,  his  little  countryman  Josh,  and  the  ship's 
sailmaker,  a  lady's  saddle  was  made  for  Orion,  and  Eth 


1 


•  The  Captain  says  you  are  to  amuse  me." 


[Page  236. 


An  Idyllic  Voyage.  241 


used  to  ride  him  all  round  the  decks.  Only,  whenever 
Orion  got  tired,  he  used  to  sit  down ;  then  up  went  Eth's 
heels  and  off  she  slid. 

5.  Nelson,  the   ship's   cock.      He   was   a   very   great 
favourite,  and  when  his  sworn  enemy,  the  Skye  terrier, 
was  shut  up,  used  to  go  where  he  liked  and  crow  where 
he  liked, — on  taffrail  or  bowsprit  or  bulwark  or  binacle, 
in  the  wardroom,  the  gunroom,  or  cockpit,  upstairs  or 
downstairs,  or  in  the  lady's  chamber,  like  goosie-goosie 
gander  in  the  old  rhyme.     Once  this  bird  fell  into  the 
sea,  and  a  boat  was  lowered  for  him.     No,  not  one  boat, 
but  three ;  and  when  he  was  picked  up,  he  jumped  on  the 
thwarts  and  clapped  his  wings  and  crew. 

Whenever  the  ship  got  into  action,  Nelson  was  let 
out,  and  he  crew  all  the  time,  and  the  louder  the 
cannons  thundered,  the  louder  crew  the  cock.  He  was 
a  rare  old  bird  ! 

6.  Eth's  Cape  pigeon.     This  pretty  thing  made  itself 
perfectly  at  home,  and  began  to  learn  to  speak,  and  was 
on  the  whole  looked  upon  with  some  superstition  by  the 
men. 

7.  Dick-Rae.     This   midshipmite   was   adored  by  the 
officers.     They  fully  appreciated  all  his  pluck  and  daring, 
and,  to  use  Jack's  own  expression,  he  was  a  regular  little 
out-and-outer,  and  no  mistake  about  it. 

8.  Dick-Rae's  two  monkeys.     The  big  and  the  little, 
or  Beauty  and  the  Beast,  as  they  were  called.    Beauty  was 
very  quiet  and  docile,  and  liked  to  be  loved  and  made 
much  of.     It  was  dressed  in  a  full  and  complete  suit  of 

Q 


242  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

sailor's  clothes,  but  these  had  to  be  renewed  very  often, 
because  the  Beast  used  to  tease  it  so. 

The  Beast,  for  example,  would  hold  out  a  bit  of 
biscuit  to  Beauty,  and  when  innocent  Beauty  came  to 
take  it,  the  Beast  would  seize  the  poor  little  thing  and 
run  up  with  it  into  the  main  or  foretop ;  and  then  the  fun 
began.  Beauty  was  put  to  stand  against  the  mast.  Then 
off  came  the  hat ;  this  was  carefully  examined,  Beauty 
receiving  a  cuff  on  the  cheek  every  now  and  then,  to  make 
it  stand  quiet.  As  soon  as  the  little  hat  was  examined, 
it  was  pitched  on  deck.  Then  the  Beast  would  seize 
Beauty,  its  tiny  trousers  would  be  pulled  off,  and  it 
had  a  smacking;  then  all  the  rest  of  its  clothes  were 
hauled  or  pitched  off;  and  after  that  came  the  grand 
finale,  for  the  Beast  got  Beauty  by  the  tail  and  swung  it 
round  and  round  and  round  !  At  this  juncture  Josh 
would  run  up  and  hold  out  a  biscuit  to  the  Beast.  After 
making  quite  sure  that  Josh  had  not  the  corporal's  cane 
behind  his  back,  the  Beast  would  come  down  and  ex- 
change Beauty  for  the  biscuit.  To  tell  half  the  tricks 
that  monkey  played  would  fill  half  a  dozen  chapters. 
It  got  hold  of  the  poor  Cape  pigeon  once  and  half 
plucked  it,  grinning  with  delight  as  handful  after  handful 
of  feathers  went  floating  away  astern. 

9.  As  a  pet,  last  but  not  least,  came  Etheldine  herself. 
She  was  the  sunshine  of  the  ship.  I  am  sure  her  father 
was  very  fond  and  proud  of  her,  and  so  for  the  matter  of 
that  was  every  one  on  board.  But  she  had  her  favourites. 
Willie  was  the  chief,  them  came  Dr.  Curver,  on  whose 


An  Idyllic  Voyage.  243 

knee  she  delighted  to  sit  and  hear  him  converse  to  his 
boys  on  flying-fish,  sharks,  porpoises,  and  all  the  wonder- 
ful creatures  of  the  sea  and  air  around  them.  She  liked 
Buchanan  and  the  captain,  but  not  Hayes.  She  was 
afraid  of  him,  although  he  often  tried  to  make  friends 
with  her. 

She  was  very  clever,  and  just  as  daring  as  clever. 
When  lecturing  on  his  stuffed  birds  and  snakes  and 
shells  and  corals,  Dr.  Curver  had  no  more  attentive 
listener  than  little  Etheldiue  Fraser. 

In  the  Indian  ocean,  in  towards  the  mainland  especially, 
are  many  lovely  little  lagoon  islands.  On  a  calm  sunny 
day  these  isles  of  the  ocean  look  as  if  they  were  sus- 
pended in  mid-air;  for  you  can  hardly  tell  where  the  sea 
ends  and  the  sky  begins. 

Many  a  little  trip  was  made  to  these  islands  when  the 
voyage  was  interrupted  by  want  of  a  breeze.  It  was 
always  Dr.  Curver's  command,  he  was  collecting  speci- 
mens for  the  good  of  science  and  the  world  at  large. 
And  his  passengers  used  to  be  invariably  Willie  Grant, 
Etheldine,  little  Josh,  and  the  great  Newfoundland 
dog. 

Once  landed  on  the  coral  sand — almost  as  white  as 
snow  it  is,  and  quite  as  dazzling — while  accompanied  by 
Josh,  the  doctor  would  go  away  into  the  interior.  Eth  and 
Willie  would  wander  about  on  the  beech,  or  make  little 
excursions  into  the  bush,  hand  in  hand,  Orion  following 
close  at  their  heels.  There  were  no  wild  beasts,  only 
snakes  enough  and  to  spare. 


244  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


There  were  great  black  scoriaceous  rocks,  that  hemmed 
in  the  snowy  beach  in  little  bays;  and  seated  on  one 
of  these,  in  some  lonely  spot,  with  the  wavelets  lisping 
on  the  shore,  the  soft  wind  fanning  their  brows  and 
whispering  through  the  green  woods  behind  them,  the 
two  would  sit  down,  and  Willie  would  become  a  story- 
teller. He  never  believed  he  could  tell  such  beautiful 
tales  till  he  tried. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  little  Eth  one  day,  while  seated  thus,  "  I 
would  like  to  live  always  here." 

1  ( And  I,"  said  Willie  enthusiastically,  "  would  like  to 
live  always — always — always  here,  if  you  were  with  me, 
Eth." 

<c  Come  along,  you  young  dreamers  !  "  cried  a  manly 
voice  behind  them ;  and  looking  round,  behold !  there 
stood  Dr.  Curver  and  little  Josh.  Curver  carried  a  basket 
full  of  beautiful  birds,  and  Josh  a  dozen  dead  snakes  on 
a  string. 

"The  boat  is  waiting,  my  babes  of  the  wood;  come 
on,"  said  the  doctor. 

But  even  after  they  had  embarked,  Dr.  Curver  would 
stop  the  boat  as  they  passed  over  a  coral  bank,  to  let 
little  Etheldine  gaze  enchantedly  on  the  beauties  of  a 
submai'ine  garden, — all  seaweeds  and  masses  of  coral, 
but  oh  !  the  shapes  and  the  rainbow  colours,  and  the 
strange  fishes,  nothing  on  earth  is  half  so  lovely! 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  Willie  Grant  looked  back  in  after 
years  to  all  the  little  events  of  this — this  idyllic  voyage  ? 
or  that  he  felt  sorry  when  land  to  the  nor'urd  hove  in 


An  Idyllic  Voyage.  245 


sight  at  last,  and  the  time  was  drawing  nigh,  that  ho 
should  have  to  part  with  this  child  who  had  charmed  him 
so  much  ?  Meanwhile,  for  a  brief  time  longer, — 

"  Calmly  their  happy  days  flew  on, 

Unnumbered  in  their  flight ; 

But  as  they  flew  they  left  behind 

One  long-continued  night." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

AMONG   PIRATES — DEMONS    OP    THE    SEA. 

;  FAB,  on  the  horizon's  verge  appears  a  speck, 
A  spot— a  mast — a  sail — an  armed  deck." 

NE  day,  while  still  some  distance  south  of 
the  Maldive  Islands,  not  one  sail  but 
many  were  reported  on  the  weather  bow. 

There  was  that  strange  gloss  on  the 
water  that  deceives  even  the  best  of  seamen,  as  to  the 
size  of  sails  in  sight  or  their  distance  away. 

When  Buchanan  went  into  the  foretop  to  have  a  look, 
for  a  time  he  could  make  nothing  of  the  craft  in  sight. 
At  one  moment  they  looked  like  big  ships  far  away,  at 
the  next  like  fishing-boats  close  at  hand.  They  were  all 
of  a  flock,  whatever  they  were,  for  they  kept  together  and 
seemed  to  advance  in  a  regular  line.  Ten  were  counted 
in  all. 

Captain  Oldrey  took  the  precaution  to  beat  to  quarters. 
It  was  well  he  did  so,  for  after  tacking  about  at  a  consider- 
able distance,  and  sheering  off  and  on,  as  if  uncertain 
what  to  do,  the  whole  fleet  stood  down  to  meet  the  Castile, 
the  vessel  having  been  kept  well  up  in  the  wind's  eye. 

244 


Among  Pirates — Demons  of  the  Sea.     247 

Large,  high-sterned,  long  two-masted  vessels  they 
were,  and  their  decks  literally  swarmed  with  dark- 
skinned,  savage-looking  armed  men,  wearing  crimson 
turbans.  Perhaps  a  more  awful-looking  lot  of  savages 
never  appeared  before  or  since  afloat  a  vessel  or  ship  of 
any  kind. 

They  had  no  flag  or  distinguishing  mark  of  any  kind ; 
but  that  they  meant  mischief  was  evident  enough. 

For  just  as  the  wardroom  officers  and  Captain  Oldrey 
stood  wondering  what  they  ought  to  do,  there  rose  a  puff 
of  white  smoke  from  the  bows  of  the  centre  vessel,  which 
seemed  the  leader,  and  this  was  followed  by  a  general 
cannonade,  and  great  balls  tore  through  the  rigging  and 
sails  of  the  Castile. 

"Now  let  them  have  it,  Mr.  Hayes;  don't  waste  a 
shot!" 

The  Casiile  was  prettily  manoeuvred,  and  the  pirates 
got  in  a  line.  Then  that  death-dealing  broadside  from 
the  frigate  must  have  caused  terrible  destruction  among 
the  murdering  flotilla. 

They  seemed  determined,  however,  not  again  to  be 
caught  napping  in  the  same  way.  They  separated,  half 
surrounded  the  Castile,  and  poured  in  their  fire  from 
every  direction,  killing  several  of  our  fellows  and  wound- 
ing not  a  few. 

It  seemed,  however,  to  be  no  part  of  the  plan  of  these 
daring  pirates  to  stand  aloof  and  continue  to  try  con- 
clusions with  the  Castile  by  means  of  guns.  If  they  did 
so  the  frigate  would  assuredly  sink  them  one  by  one. 


248  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

There  must  have  beeii  on  each  of  these  dhows  at  leasb 
two  hundred  well-armed  men.  Whether  they  had  at 
first  mistaken  the  ship  for  a  merchantman  or  not,  may 
never  be  known ;  it  was  evident  enough,  at  all  events, 
that  they  now  determined  to  make  the  best  of  their  mis- 
take, if  mistake  it  had  been.  And  they  were  fellows  who 
knew  no  fear, 

They  prepared  to  close  around  the  Castile  on  all  points. 

"  Prepare  to  repel  boarders  !  "  was  the  shout  that  now 
rang  fore  and  aft. 

Just  at  this  moment  a  little  figure  dressed  in  white, 
with  flowing  hair  and  tearful  eyes,  rushed  on  deck,  and 
going  straight  to  where  Willie  Grant  stood,  put  her  arms 
around  him — it  was  Eth  ! — and  entreated  him  to  come 
below.  She  also  asked  in  a  beseeching  wny  for  her  father. 

There  was  no  time  to  lose.  Colonel  Fraser  was  for- 
ward and  preparing  to  assist  with  the  marines.  He  had 
believed  that  Eth  was  safe  in  his  cabin. 

Willie  Grant  took  her  up  in  his  arms  and  rushed  below 
and  straight  down  to  the  cabin.  He  met  Josh  and 
Orion,  and  took  them  along,  and  made  all  three  prisoners 
in  the  doctor's  big  cabin,  the  one  to  solace  the  other. 

By  the  time  he  got  back  the  pirates  had  closed  in 
double  tier,  the  guns  on  both  sides  had  been  fired,  and 
it  was  now  hand  to  hand,  both  at  the  ports  and  on  the 
upper  deck. 

I  have  the  history  of  this  terrible  fight  in  an  old  log- 
book belonging  to  a  grand-uncle.  It  is  headed,  "A 
Battle  with  Sea-demons. "  It  bears  the  impress  of 


Among  Pirates — Demons  of  the  Sea.     249 

truth,  and  I  have  seldom  read  anything  more  awful. 
The  sea-demons  not  only  scrambled  over  the  bulwarks 
on  starboard  and  larboard,  but  swarmed  in  through  the 
ports,  and  like  bees  along  the  jib-boom  and  bowsprit. 

But  all  their  fierceness  and  vim  could  not  overcome 
the  dogged  and  steadfast  courage  of  our  brave  sailors 
and  marines. 

For  nearly  half  an  hour  the  fight  went  on,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  several  of  the  pirate  vessels  were  on  fire. 
Still  they  swarmed  on,  the  living  taking  tlie  place  of  the 
dead  and  wounded.  It  was  like  fighting  the  dreaded 
hundred-headed  hydra  of  heathen  mythology. 

But  victory  came  at  last.  Those  of  the  pirate  vessels 
that  were  not  on  fire  drew  off.  They  picked  up  their 
men  from  the  sea,  despite  our  musketry  fire,  and  finally 
set  sail  and  ran  before  the  wind. 

The  wounded  on  board — or  those  among  them  who 
could  crawl,  pitched  themselves  into  the  sea,  and  fell 
victims  to  the  sharks  that  had  assembled  in  hundreds  to 
a  fearful  feast.  I  fear  our  fellows  helped  those  of  the 
wounded  who  wanted  to  get  overboard  and  could  not. 

Three  of  the  ten  piratical  dhows  were  burned  or  blown 
up. 

Many  of  our  brave  men  were  wounded,  and  five  were 
killed,  Captain  Buckram  being  among  the  former. 

When  Willie  ran  below  to  release  his  prisoners,  he 
found  two  of  them  just  getting  up  off  their  knees. 

"As  we  couldn't  fight,"  said  little  Josh,  "  we  thought 
we  would  pray."  And  certainly  they  acted  rightly;  for 


250  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

who  can  say  that  the  prayer  of  a  little  child  may  not  be 
heard  and  answered  at  the  throne  of  grace  ? 

As  to  the  demons  of  the  sea,  they  disappeared  and 
made  no  sign,  and  till  this  day  there  is  something  of 
mystery  enshrouding  the  story. 

A  similar  fleet,  though  larger,  once  appeared  at  Zan- 
zibar; they  fired  and  looted  the  town,  and  then  went  ofif, 
no  one  ever  could  tell  where  they  had  come  or  whither 
they  had  gone. 

About  a  week  after  the  fight  with  pirates,  the  Castile 
found  herself  near  the  coast  of  Malay,  and  many  of  those 
sea-robber  boats,  called  prahus,  were  seized  and  destroyed 
close  in  shore.  So  close  indeed  that  the  crews  of  these 
strange  crafts  nearly  always  managed  to  run  their  vessels 
close  in  shore  and  escape  by  swimming  or  in  their  small 
boats. 

An  expedition  was  formed  to  follow  them  up  their 
rivers  inland. 

Captain  Buckram,  whose  wound  was  but  slight,  and 
bold  Buchanan,  had  command  of  this  raid,  with  five  boats 
in  all,  each  containing  over  twenty  blue-jackets  and 
marines. 

They  found  the  country  very  mountainous  and  rugged 
and  wild, — the  forests  and  jungles  almost  impenetrable, 
and  the  rivers  only  partially  navigable. 

The  Malays  hardly  made  a  stand  against  our  fellows, 
finding  it  more  to  their  advantage  to  betake  themselves 
into  the  interior. 

They  could  not  take  their  houses    and  villages  with 


Among  Pirates — Demons  of  the  Sea.     251 

them,  however,  and  these  were  destroyed  by  fire,  after 
they  had  been  carefully  examined  and  every  bed-ridden 
or  aged  person  taken  out. 

Many  of  these  houses  were  built  on  poles,  so  that  firing 
them  was  very  simple  work  indeed.  But  once  alight,  and 
fanned  by  a  southerly  breeze,  the  destruction  of  woods 
and  forests  caused  by  these  burning  villages  was  appal- 
ling in  the  extreme.  Inland,  over  the  country,  the 
flames  spread  in  all  directions,  sometimes  creeping  up 
over  the  highest  hills  and  leaping  even  over  the  streams. 
By  night  the  scene  was  magnificent  but  fearful,  and  the 
wild  cries  of  the  denizens  of  those  once  lovely  woods 
were  pitiful  to  listen  to. 

We  see,  then,  that  in  whatever  shape  or  form  it  comes, 
war  is  a  terrible  calamity  ! 

****** 

Early  in  the  year  1809,  the  Castile,  after  adventures 
and  hairbreadth  escapes  too  numerous  by  far  to  men- 
tion, cast  anchor  in  the  roadstead  off  Bombay. 

The  walls  in  those  days  still  frowned  darkly  over  the 
water,  and  there  were  far  fewer  English  than  now,  but 
it  was  even  then  a  largish  city.  The  ships  of  many 
nations  at  peace  with  the  British  were  lying  here,  and 
all  day  long  the  busy  native  boats  went  backwards  and 
forwards  to  and  from  the  bundahs. 

The  water  all  around  was  very  blue  and  clear,  the 
wind  had  gone  down,  there  was  hardly  a  cloud  in  the 
sky,  and  the  distant  isles  of  Elephanta  hung  like  jewels 
on  the  horizon. 


252  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

It  was  a  lovely  scene ! 

General  Fraser  now  landed,  and  great  was  the  grief  of 
poor  little  Etheldine  to  bid  all  her  companions  good-bye. 

Willie  had  obtained  a  week's  leave,  and  was  going  to 
Poonah  with  the  general. 

The  last  individual  that  Etheldine  said  farewell  to 
was  great  Orion,  the  Newfoundland.  She  hung  about 
his  neck,  and  her  tears  fell  thick  on  his  bonnie  brow. 

"  Good-bye,  doggie  !  "  she  said.  "  We  have  been  so 
happy,  but  I  will  never,  never  see  you  more." 

The  crew  manned  the  rigging  and  gave  three  lusty 
cheers  as  the  boat  sped  away  from  the  ship. 

They  travelled  to  Poonah  by  dak,  and  a  very  pleasant 
journey  they  found  it,  especially  that  portion  of  it  which 
was  accomplished  after  nightfall;  when  the  woods  were 
all  silent  except  for  the  strange  cries  of  bird  or  beast, 
when  the  silent  stars  shone  over  them  and  the  fire-flies 
danced  in  every  bush. 

Now  we  have  all  heard  the  saying,  "  Wonders  will 
never  cease." 

Of  course  wonders  will  never  cease  so  long  as  this 
world  wags,  and  here  now  I  give  a  strange  proof  of  it. 

The  arrival  of  General  Fraser  and  his  escort  one  fore- 
noon created  no  little  excitement  at  Poonah,  and  from 
tents  that  stood  among  the  palm  trees  many  soldiers 
flocked  around. 

But  there  was  one  figure  among  these — tall,  dark,  and 
turbaned  he  was — that  caused  Willie  to  stare  for  a  few 
moments  as  if  transfixed. 


Among  Pirates — Demons  of  the  Sea.      253 

Then  he  walked  slowly  up  to  the  man,  extended  his 
hand,  and  said, — 

"Poodah!" 

"  Missa  Willie  Grant !  Missa  Willie  Grant!"  exclaimed 
the  poor  fellow.  The  tears  of  joy  came  rushing  to  his 
eyes  as  he  pressed  Willie's  hand  to  his  lips  and  brow. 

"  Come  !  come  !  come  !  "  he  cried  then.  "  De  general 
himself  here.  Come  !  " 

11  What  general  ?  " 

Willie  felt  like  one  walking  in  a  dream.  But  he  was 
soon  in  the  presence  of  a  tall,  handsome  officer  of  very 
soldierly  appearance, — and  this  was  General  Rutherford, 
and  no  other  ! 

Willie  had  a  dozen  questions  on  his  lips  to  ask  him  all 
at  once. 

Had  he  not  sailed  in  the  wrecked  Queen  of  the  Sea, 
then,  after  all  ?  How  came  Poodah  here  from  Scotland  ? 
Where  was  Dem  ?  and " 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear  boy,  and  compose  yourself,"  said 
Rutherford.  "  Poodah,  fetch  coffee.  I  will  tell  you  all, 
for  you  seem  to  be  quite  in  the  dark." 

"  I  am/'  said  Willie,  "  I  left  the  glen  after  poor 
father's  sad  death." 

"  Dear  lad,  your  father  lives,  and  is  now  on  his  way 
home  in  the  good  ship  Star  of  Madras." 

Willie  heard  no  more  just  then.  Everything  seemed 
to  go  whirling  round,  tent  and  table,  and  Poodah  and  all. 

When  he  recovered,  the  general  was  holding  water  to 
•his  lips. 


254  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  Drink,"  lie  said,  "  then  rest  a  little  on  the  couch 
where  you  lie." 

But  Willie  sat  up. 

"No  !  no !  no  !  "  he  cried,  "I  must  hear  all,  all  now, 
now  at  once." 

"  So  be  it  then.  The  Queen  of  the  Sea,  in  which  your 
father  and  I  sailed,  and  which  he  commanded,  was 
attacked  off  the  Cape  by  a  French  privateer.  Your 
father  never  would  go  in  convoy.  We  had  the  audacity 
to  fight  our  ship,  for  we  were  tolerably  well  armed ;  but 
the  privateer  raked  our  decks,  hulled  us,  and  finally 
knocked  us  pretty  nearly  into  flinders.  They  lowered 
their  boats  and  picked  us  up  and  those  of  the  crew  that 
had  not  been  killed  or  sunk. 

"Well,  after  many  months  we  were  taken  to  France, 
made  prisoners,  and  finally  exchanged  in  the  usual  way. 

"  We  arrived  at  Miss  McBride's  cottage  one  morning, 
to  find  our  birds  had  fled.  Poor  Poodah  alone  was  left  to 
tell  the  sad  tale.  Not  sad,  my  lad,  so  far  as  you  are  con- 
cerned, for  you  have  done  well.  But  James,  my  dear 
son,  or  Dem  as  you  and  Poodah  call  him, — alas !  and 
alas  ! " 

"He  is  not  dead?" 

"  I  know  not.  I  only  know  this,  that  he  made  some 
childish  attempt  to  get  a  warrant  to  join  the  service  as  a 
midshipman,  and  that  failing  in  this  he  went  to  France 
and  threw  in  his  lot  with  his  country's  foes.  If  not  dead, 
he  is  afloat,  and  will  be  dead  to  me  and  to  you,  my  boy, 
till  this  war  ceases,  if  not  for  ever  and  aye." 


Among  Pirates — Demons  of  the  Sea.     255 

The  emotions  that  this  story  of  General  Rutherford's 
had  created  in  Willie's  breast  were  very  conflicting.  He 
was  overjoyed  to  hear  of  his  father  being  still  alive  and 
well,  but  this  joy  was  sadly  chastened  by  what  he  was 
told  of  his  old  friend  and  schoolfellow  Dem. 

It  seemed  such  a  very  long  time  since  he  had  left 
Scotland,  but  now  all  the  old  times  rose  up  before  his 
mind's  eye,  and  he  felt  as  if  he  were  back  once  more, 
a  happy  boy  in  the  woods  and  among  the  wild  hills  of 
bonnie  Glengair. 

He  remained  long  in  silence,  reclining  on  the  couch 
where  Poodah  had  placed  him  when  he  fainted. 

The  general  sat  near  him,  smoking  a  great  hookah  or 
hubble-bubble,  and  sipping  his  coffee,  and  Poodah,  never 
once  taking  his  eyes  from  Willie's  face,  squatted  on  the 
floor.  He  smiled  and  spoke  at  last. 

"  My  father  would  have  written  somewhere  to  me  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  general,  "  the  letters  would  be  sent 
to  the  Admiralty,  and  may  even  now  be  following  you 
about." 

Willie  smiled  again,  then  he  sighed. 

"  Poor  Dem  !  poor  Dem  !  "  he  said. 

Suddenly  from  his  mat  in.  the  corner  of  the  tent  up 
sprang  Poodah. 

He  looked  as  he  stood  there,  one  arm  reared  heaven- 
wards, in  his  white  trailing  garments,  like  a  dark 
prophet. 

"  I  go  seek  my  boy  Dem  !  "  he  cried,     "  Over  all  the 


256  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

world  I  go  seek  my  boy.  For  ever  I  will  search,  but — I 
—will— find— him  !  " 

He  rushed  from  the  tent. 

The  general  simply  smoked  on  and  spoke  not. 

Willie  Grant's  face  had  clouded  over  again ;  he  was 
wondering  if  Poodah  were  mad. 

Presently  sunshine,  light,  and  beauty  burst  into  the 
tent,  for  little  Etheldine  came  rushing  to  Willie's  side. 

Then  something  seemed  to  whisper  to  him  these  words, 
"  Tell  her  the  story  of  your  perplexity." 

And  he  did.  All  the  story  of  his  life  leapt  word  for 
word  from  Willie's  lips,  and  the  wide-eyed,  wondering 
child  listened  arid  heard  it  all. 

For  a  moment  only  did  she  look  serious  after  he  had 
finished  talking.  Then  the  cloud  rolled  off  her  brow. 

"  0  Willie  !  "  she  said,  "  all  will  yet  come  well :  you 
will  find  your  father  and  you  will  find  your  friend ;  Fm 
going  to  pray  for  that." 

The  general  put  down  his  pipe  stem  now,  and  rose, 
"  Come  to  me,  little  Ethie,"  he  said.  "  I  am  poor  Dem's 
father,  and  I  want  to  thank  you  for  bringing  us  hope 
and  consolation.  Come  !  " 

END    OF   BOOK    SECOND. 


'i 


m 


— \ 


&; 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   HERO'S   DEATH.— A   JACK   TARJS   WEDDING. 

"  HERE  a  sheer  hulk  lies  poor  Tom  Bowling, 

The  darling  of  our  crew  ; 
No  more  he'll  hear  the  billows  howling, 
For  death  has  broached  him  to. 

His  form  was  of  the  manliest  beauty, 

His  heart  was  kind  and  soft ; 
Faithful  below  he  did  his  duty, 

But  now  he's  gone  aloft." 

— Dibdln. 

IME   flew  by,  and   the  war  rolled  on  its 
weary,  woeful  course. 

Three  whole  years  have  elapsed  since 
little  sunny-haired  Etheldine  Fraser 
broughb  hope  and  consolation  to  the  tent  of  Dem 
Rutherford's  father  in  Poonah. 

The  Castile  has  weathered  many  a  storm  since  then, 
and  been  in  many  a  battle  and  many  a  chase. 

Ay,  and  there  has  been  many  a  change  in  our  navy, 
and  changes  even  in  the  Castile. 

Captain  Oldrey  still  commands  her,  and  Mr.  Hayes 
walks  the  quarter-deck  as  her  first  lieutenant.  Perkins 
the  purser,  and  Curver,  Buckram,  and  Hunt  are  still  the 
same. 

250 


260  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

But,  alas !  poor  Scotch  Buchanan  is  no  more.  He 
died  as  we  like  to  hear  of  heroes  dying.  There  was  no 
mistake  about  it  this  time.  While  cutting  out  a  French 
brig  with  boats,  and  while  in  the  very  act  of  boarding, 
he  was  himself  cut  down,  and  fell  on  the  blood-slippery 
deck  of  that  vessel  in  the  very  hour  of  victory. 

They  took  him  aft  and  laid  him  on  the  skylight,  with 
a  pillow  of  captured  flags  to  support  his  head. 

Willie  Grant  came  and  sat  by  him  as  the  ship  was 
being  sailed  out  from  under  the  iron  teeth  of  a  couple  of 
batteries  which  were  sullenly  firing,  the  enemy  trying 
now  to  sink  a  ship  that  had  been  theirs  but  half  an  hour 
ago,  quite  regardless  of  the  lives  of  their  own  countrymen 
on  board. 

Buchanan  was  very  faint  and  pale,  and  the  blood 
trickled  and  dropped  off  the  skylight  in  a  miniature 
cataract. 

"  We'll  soon  get  the  doctor  to  see  you." 

"  It'll  be  too  late,"  murmured  the  wounded  lieutenant. 
"  I'm  going  to  1-lose  the  n-n-nurnber  of  my  mess  this 
time.  Thank  God,  we've  got  the  ship  though.  I've 
lived  a  r-r-rough  life,  Grant,  boy,  but  my  hopes  are  all 
on  Him  who  was  pierced  for  me." 

"Willie  Grant,"  he  said,  "can  you  say  a  bit  of  a 
prayer?" 

The  sails  had  filled,  the  brig  was  moving  slowly  away 
seawards  in  the  direction  of  the  Castile,  which  was  lying 
in  the  offing  with  main-yard  aback.  The  guns  still 
boomed  from  the  port,  and  Willie  knelt  beside  the  dying 


A  Hero's  Death.  261 

sailor,  and  with  a  beautiful  pathos  born  of  the  occasion, 
and  with  one  arm  across  Buchanan's  breast,  prayed 
earnestly  for  his  shipmate. 

Three  or  four  rough  sailors  had  crowded  round,  and 
tears  that  they  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  trickled 
over  their  weather-stained  faces. 

"O  heavenly  Father!"  Willie  was  praying,  "spare 
our  friend;  take  him  not  away  from  us  in  the  strength  of 
his  manhood.  But  if  Thou  seest  good  to  take  his  soul 
to  Thee,  O  enable  us  to  say  from  our  hearts,  even  in  our 
sorrow,  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

Willie's  wrist  was  clutched  here  by  Buchanan's  feeble 
hand.  His  lips  moved,  and  all  could  hear  these 
words  : 

"  Thy  w-w-w-will  be  done  !  " 

The  spirit  had  fled  ! 

The  poor  Scotch  lieutenant  was  buried  at  sea.  Dick- 
Hae  filled  the  vacancy  as  acting-lieutenant,  and  this  was 
afterwards  confirmed  by  the  Admiralty,  while  almost  at 
the  same  time  Willie  Grant  was  manufactured  into  a  full- 
blown mate. 

Neither  he  nor  his  friend  may  be  considered  boys  any 
longer.  Dick-Bae  is  nearly  twenty  years  of  age,  and 
Willie  well  on  to  nineteen ;  the  former,  however,  has 
only  grown  about  a  couple  of  inches,  but  he  is  smart  all 
over,  while  Willie  Grant  is  a  broad-shouldered,  brawny 
Scot,  with  a  bold  and  handsome  face,  and  an  eye  like  the 
eagle's,  that  can  look  on  the  sun.  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
that  Willie  Grant  can  look  at  the  sun  with  comfort ;  but 


262  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

I'm  quite  sure  of  one  thing,  he  does  his  duty  and  does 
not  fear  the  face  of  clay. 

Willie  has  been  home  for  weeks  in  the  old  glen. 
Things  are  just  as  he  left  them.  Old  Miss  McBride  is 
no  older  apparently  than  ever.  The  squire  was  glad  to 
see  Willie,  and  to  have  him  dine  with  him  night  after 
night,  and  tell  him  all  the  strange  events  of  his  brief 
career  in  the  service,  and  the  world-wide  adventures  ho 
had  already  passed  through. 

Invalid  and  all  as  he  was,  he  appeared  to  postpone 
shuffling  off  the  mortal  coil  indefinitely,  and  really  looked 
brighter  than  when  WTillie  had  seen  him  last. 

Old  Sauuders,  the  boatmau-fisherman-recluse,  was  glad 
to  see  Willie.  He  had  many  things  to  tell  him  ;  one  was 
that  the  strange  star  on  the  mountain  had  never  appeared 
again,  and  the  question  was, — who  had  taken  it  ? 

Willie  had  wandered  up  into  the  mountain,  but  strange 
to  say  he  failed  to  find  the  cave,  that  part  of  the  hill 
seemed  all  strange  to  him — new  bushes,  new  boulders, 
and  the  old  ones  gone  !  It  was  a  mystery  of  mysteries. 
It  really  seemed  to  Willie  now  as  if  the  past,  including 
even  Dem  and  Poodah,  had  been  all  a  dream. 

And  Willie  had  met  his  father,  who  was  at  home  also 
for  a  spell  of  leave,  and  soon  about  to  sail  again. 

"I'm  downright  proud  of  you,  my  boy,"  Captain  Grant 
had  told  his  son.  "  Never  fail  to  do  your  duty,  lad,  to 
your  king  and  country,  and  trust  Him — the  great  and 
good  and  everlasting  God,  Willie,  in  every  trial  and 
difficulty.  He  knows  what  is  best  for  us,  depend  upon 


A  Jack  Tar's  Wedding.  263 

it ;    so  I  say  again,  lad,  trust  Him  thoroughly,  wholly, 
out  and  out,  and  never  fear  for  the  future." 

*  *  #  *  #•  * 

The  Castile  was  lying  at  Plymouth.  Sho  was  soon  to 
be  outward-bound  to  the  West  Indies  in  charge  of  a 
small  convoy  of  merchant  vessels. 

Willie  got  down  there  in  good  time  to  join  his  ship, 
but  the  day  of  his  arrival  certainly  was  not  one  to  raise 
his  drooping  spirits. 

Drooping,  did  I  say  ?  Yes,  and  I  am  right.  They  tell 
us  that  those  who  live  in  wild  mountain  lands  like  our 
Scottish  Highlands,  are  more  superstitious  than  the 
dwellers  in  flowery  plains  and  bird-haunted  woods  like 
those  in  mid-England.  Perhaps  it  is  the  case;  how- 
ever, our  hero,  when  he  arrived  in  Plymouth,  was  in  a 
strangely  gloomy  mood.  Something  seemed  hanging 
over  him.  If  any  one  had  suddenly  appeared  round  the 
corner  of  a  street  and  told  him  that  he  would  never 
return  from  sea,  he  would  have  believed  it  at  once. 

The  day  was  dark  and  dull,  the  clouds  heavy,  and 
showers  passing  ever  and  anon  over  the  town,  driven  on 
the  wings  of  a  sou'-westerly  wind,  which  was  nearly  half 
a  gale,  and  frothed  and  whitened  all  the  bay. 

Night  came  on,  too,  a  full  hour  sooner  than  usual, 
a  dreary  night  it  turned  out  to  be,  and  Willie  was  all 
alone  in  his  hotel. 

He  tried  a  turn  out  of  doors.  Yes,  it  was  a  dreary 
night,  and  a  depressing  night  of  fog  and  gloom.  The 
greasy  oil  lamps  that  glimmered  here  and  there  in  the 


264  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

streets  looked  ghastly  and  far  away,  their  rays  were 
speedily  swallowed  up  in  the  black  watery  mist  which 
had  succeeded  the  day  of  storm,  and  the  people — few 
they  were  indeed  who  were  abroad — seemed  at  a  little 
distance  like  gigantic  demons  or  spectres,  only  taking  on 
the  appearance  of  human  beings  as  they  emerged  with 
a  leap,  as  it  were,  from  the  fog-bank,  were  seen  for  a 
moment  and  swallowed  up  behind  you.  An  ugly  night ! 

But  on  going  aboard  next  morning,  the  reunion  with 
his  messmates,  and  the  look  of  home  that  everything 
about  him  presented,  soon  banished  the  effects  of  the 
night's  depression,  and  Willie  found  himself  walking 
rapidly  up  and  down  the  stone- white  decks,  talking  and 
laughing  as  merrily  with  Dick-Rae  as  if  there  never  had 
been  anything  but  sunshine  in  the  world. 

"  Signal  came  this  morning,"  Dick-Rae  was  saying, 
"  to  tell  us  we  would  not  sail  for  a  fortnight  yet.  The 
oonvoy — and  I  do  detest  a  convoy,  Grant^-won't  be 
ready  for  more  than  a  week,  and  we've  got  to  dance 
attendance  on  them." 

"  Well,"  said  Willie,  "  it  doesn't  matter  a  great  deal, 
anyhow." 

"  No  ;  but  the  best  of  it  is,  we  have  got  to  slip  round 
to-night  to  Portsmouth.  The  wind  is  fair,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,  and  I  had  a  dinner  party  on  which  I'm 
glad  to  get  clear  of." 

"  But  why  are  you  glad  to  get  to  Portsmouth  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  haven't  told  you  yet !  It  is  all  on  account  of 
dear  Old  Benbow.  There  have  been  such  doings  !  " 


A  Jack  Tar's  Wedding.  265 

"  Tell  me  all  about  them/' 

"  Come  down  to  the  wardroom  then  ;  there  is  nobody 
there." 

Down  they  went. 

"  You  see,"  said  Dick-Rae,  as  soon  as  they  got  seated, 
"  you  see,  the  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth. 
It  hasn't  in  Benbow's  case.  We  could  hardly  expect  it. 
After  an  absence  of  three  or  four  years,  and  bushels  of 
letters  following  our  Benbow  all  over  the  world,  as  you 
know,  Benbow  comes  home,  gets  leave,  goes  to  the 
Flounces,  and  finds  the  door  shut  in  his  face.  Fact  is, 
Mrs.  Flounce  would  never  have  permitted  the  engage- 
ment had  she  not  firmly  believed  that  Jack  Williams 
would  either  be  killed,  drowned,  or  die  by  yellow  fever. 
Old  Benbow  hasn't  done  either.  He  comes  home  to 
claim  his  bride.  Meanwhile  a  wealthy  pork-butcher, 
with  a  beautiful  villa  at  Fareham  and  a  yacht  at  Haslar, 
has  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  Julia  is  to  be  made  to 
marry  this  dealer  in  pork-dab  and  slush." 

"  But  Julia  loves  Benbow  !  " 

"  She  does  really.  He  is  still  to  her  the  hero,  gallant, 
good,  and  true,  her  own,  own  Jack,  and  all  the  rest  of  it. 
But,  nolens  vulens,  she  marries  old  Slush  in  a  week's  time. 
Now,  Willie  Grant,  what  do  you  think  of  Walter  Scott's 
poem,— 

"  Oh,  young  Lochinvar  has  come  out  of  the  west, 
In  all  the  wide  border  his  steed  was  the  best." 

"  It  is  grand  !  "  said  Willie. 

"  Well,"  said  Dick-Rae,  "  we'll  have  it  all  over  again. 


266  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

I  got  Old  Benbow  into  this  love  affair,  and  I'll  see  him 
out  of  it,  if  money  and  daring  can  do  it." 

"Bravo!  Dick-Rae." 

"  Now,  I'll  tell  you  how  the  matter  stands  at  present. 
Benbow  is  willing  to  do  anything ;  so  is  Julia.  She  has 
been  communicated  with,  and  when  we  get  round  to 
Portsmouth  we  shall  have  letters  every  day." 

"  How  do  you  expect  to  have  them  delivered  ?  " 

"Your  boy  Josh;  he  gets  up  as  a  watercress  seller 
first-rate,  and  I  have  Mrs.  Flounce's  kitchen-maid  on  my 
side.  Mind,  we  are  all  debarred  from  the  Flounces. 
Not  a  blue-jacket  or  marine,  officer  or  man,  dare  come 
near.  Old  Slush  is  always  at  the  house,  and  it  is  part  of 
the  plan  that  Julia  is  to  pretend  to  be  resigned  to  her 
fate.  We'll  have  some  fun,  you'll  see.  Hark  !  What  is 
that  ?  Away,  side  boys  !  Captain's  coming,  Willie  ;  I 
must  go  and  receive  him." 

When  the  ship  got  round  to  Portsmouth,  Dick-Rae 
sent  Josh  on  shore  every  day,  and  he  duly  sold  the 
Flounces  watercresses,  and  exchanged  communications 
with  Julia  through  the  medium  of  the  kitchen-maid. 

Dick-Rae  had  gone  to  the  city  (London)  for  a  few 
days.  His  rank  in  life  gave  him  influence  at  the  Admi- 
ralty, and  in  a  short  time  Old  Benbow  was  not  only 
promoted  to  mate,  but  granted  three  months  leave  on 
full  pay. 

"  For,"  explained  Dick-Rae,  "  if  we  do  succeed  in  the 
1  young  Lochinvar '  business,  it  would  be  altogether  a  pity 
if  Old  Beubow  was  to  be  done  out  of  his  honeymoon." 


A  Jack  Tar's  Wedding.  267 


Now  the  wealthy  pork-butcher  whom  the  Flounces 
determined  "  their  gal "  should  marry,  was  by  no  means 
a  bad  fellow  in  his  way.  A  portly  personage  he  was,  with 
a  red  fat  face  and  a  wealth  of  waistcoat,  and  a  pound- 
weight  of  gold  seals  dangling  from  his  fob.  Not  only 
was  he  a  pork-butcher,  but  a  bit  of  a  poet  in  his  way ; 
so,  having  a  soul  above  slush,  he  proposed  to  Mrs. 
Flounce  that  Julia  and  he  should  be  married,  not  in 
Portsmouth,  or  Southampton  even,  but  in  the  bounie  wee 
church  of  the  sweet  little  town  of  Lyudhurst,  in  the 
New  Forest,  where  his  mother  lived. 

This  was  agreed  to;  the  days  were  still  fine,  and  the 
drive  from  Southampton  to  Lyndhurst  would  be  delight- 
ful. Then  they  would  be  married  "  all  so  gaily,  0  !  "  and 
drive  to  Lymington,  embark  in  his  yacht  which  lay  near 
by,  and  sail  away  to  Ireland  to  spend  the  happy  honey- 
moon ! 

Of  all  these  intentions  Julia  duly  apprised  Dick-Rae  and 
her  lover  by  means  of  the  maid  and  the  watercress  seller. 
And  Dick-Rao  made  his  arrangements  accordingly. 

He,  too,  had  a  yacht  stationed  near  Lymington — his 
brother's,  which  he  had  borrowed,  and  he  put  Benbow 
and  a  crew  of  trusty  blue-jackets  in  charge  thereof. 
They  had  nothing  to  do  but  keep  silence  and  wait. 

Well,  the  day  that  Mr.  Slush  fondly  hoped  would  be 
big  with  his  fate  duly  arrived.  The  whole  party  had 
arrived  in  Southampton  the  night  before,  and  on  the 
eventful  morning,  it  is  almost  needless  to  say  the  happy 
Mr.  Slush  was  up  and  dressed  in  good  time.  Better 


268  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

dressed,  at  least  more  gaily,  than  ever:  a  flowered 
waistcoat,  and  a  white  stock  fastened  so  tightly  that  it 
almost  threatened  suffocation. 

About  ten  o'clock,  steering  for  the  west,  four  open 
carriages,  each  with  postillions  and  four  horses,  went 
prancing  away  from  Southampton.  The  first  contained 
Mr.  Slush  and  his  friend,  the  others  the  Flounces  and 
party. 

The  day  was  very  beautiful,  and  the  drive  through  the 
trees  and  ferns  and  flowers  and  forest  most  invigorating. 
But  that  wealthy  pork-butcher  and  his  friends  would  not 
have  talked  so  loudly  or  laughed  so  lightly  had  they 
known  the  danger  on  ahead. 

They  were  within  some  miles  of  Lyndhurst,  and  at  a 
very  lonely  spot  indeed,  when  suddenly  a  wild  shout 
rang  through  the  forest,  and  a  cordon  of  ten  armed 
and  masked  men  was  drawn  across  the  road,  while  five 
others  advanced  to  meet  the  carriages.  They  also  were 
masked. 

The  gentlemen  in  front  at  once  sprang  up  and  levelled 
their  pistols. 

"  It  is  not  a  bit  of  use,"  said  one  of  the  masked  men, 
who,  though  determined  in  gait  and  bearing,  was  a  sin- 
gularly little  fellow;  "the  charges  were  all  drawn  from 
your  pistols  before  you  left." 

"By  what  authority,"  cried  Mr.  Slush,  spluttering  and 
getting  black  in  the  face,  "  do  you  dare,  sir,  to  stop  me 
on  my  marriage  day  ?  " 


A  Jack  Tar's  Wedding.  269 

"  Marriages  were  made  in  heaven,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Now  keep  quiet,  or  you'll  get  hurt." 

This  man  advanced  to  the  ladies'  carriage  and  ordered 
Julia  to  alight. 

It  is  needless  to  say  she  required  no  second  bidding. 
She  was  at  once  hurried  away  into  the  woods.  The 
masked  men  disappeared  as  suddenly  and  mysteriously 
as  they  had  come. 

"  On  !  postillions,  on  !  "  roared  Slush.  "  On  to  Lynd- 
hurst  and  summon  aid  !  " 

Crack  went  the  whips,  and  away  the  chariots  rolled. 

But  Dick-Rae's  carriage,  with,  besides  himself,  Willie 
and  Julia,  rolled  out  of  Lyndhurst  just  as  Mr.  Slush's 
appeared. 

It  was  a  strange  thing,  but  true,  that  the  mob  cheered 
Dick-Rac's  trap,  but  did  everything  possible  to  hinder 
the  wealthy  pork-butcher's. 

It  was  also  a  strange  thing  that  not  a  constable  was 
to  be  had  for  love  or  money.  But  Slush  got  fresh 
horses,  and  after  some  provoking  delay,  started  by  him- 
self  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives,  leaving  the  ladies  behind. 
Twenty  or  thirty  men  on  horseback  came  trooping  on 
behind,  just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing,  or  just  as  little 
country  boys  follow  a  hunt.  Since  the  days  when  King 
Harry  hunted  the  monks  from  tree  to  tree,  I  question  if 
ever  that  old  forest  saw  such  an  exciting  chase. 

Dick-Rae  and  party  were  not  a  mile  ahead  all  the  time, 
and  often  less,  for  they  were  harbouring  their  horses' 
strength  for  a  spurt  at  the  finish. 


270  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Dick-Rae  had  brought  a  bugle,  and  every  now  and 
again  he  stood  up  and  gave  the  pursuers  a  blast  that 
made  the  forest  ring  again,  and  more  than  once  this 
cruel  Julia  waved  her  lily-white  hand  and  handkerchief 
back  towards  her  laggard  lover,  as  if  to  beckon  him  on. 

"  This  is  the  best  fun  ever  I  had  in  all  my  little  life," 
cried  Dick-Rae.  "  Hurrah  !  " 

"  One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear, 
When  they  reached  the  hall  door,  and  the  charger  stood  near ; 
So  light  to  the  croupe  the  fair  lady  he  swung, 
So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung. 
She  is  won,  we  are  gone  over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur, 
'  They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,'  quoth  young  Lochlnvar." 

"  Aud  as  sure  as  a  sixty-pounder,"  continued  Dick-Rae, 
"  yonder  comes  Lochinvar  himself,  the  gallant  Old  Ben- 
bow— the  bold  Jack  Williams  !  " 

So  it  was,  and  gotten  up,  as  one  might  say,  regard- 
less of  expense.  They  say  sailors  cannot  ride,  but  this 
particular  sailor  could,  and  very  solid  and  substantial  he 
looked  on  that  big  grey  hired  horse. 

He  had  a  bonnie  smile  from  Julia,  and  there  was  love's 
own  light  in  her  eye  when  she  saw  her  hero.  There  was 
no  time  for  further  salutation. 

"  Go  ahead  now,  full  sweep  and  full  sail !  "  cried  Dick- 
Rae  to  the  postillion. 

And  away  they  went  at  the  gallop.  A  farewell  blast 
was  blown  on  the  bugle,  a  farewell  wave  of  the  saucy 
hand  and  handkerchief,  then  on  they  tore. 

Dick-Rae's  party  were  on  board  the  yacht,  the  sails 


A  Jack  Tar's  Wedding.  271 

were  filling  to  the  breeze,  and  the  pretty  little  vessel 
standing  out  to  sea  ere  Mr.  Slush  and  his  friends 
appeared. 

But  even  then  he  refused  to  give  up  the  chase,  and  his 
yacht  was  also  unmoored  and  sail  set.  And  not  his 
alone,  but  every  boat  that  a  bit  of  canvas  could  be 
clapped  upon,  went  out  to  see  how  it  would  all  end. 

Not  until  Dick-Rae's  yacht  was  well  out  at  sea  did 
the  marriage  take  place.  But  then  the  ceremony  was 
duly  performed  by  a  clergyman-friend  of  Diek-Rae's. 

No  need  to  hurry  now. 

The  other  yacht  and  a  fleet  of  boats  were  coming  up 
astern,  when  suddenly  they  heard  guns — a  regular  salute 
— fired  on  board  the  runaway,  while  flags  were  run  up 
till  she  looked  quite  en  gala. 

"  It's  all  up  !  "  said  Mr.  Slush.  "  Ready  about,  lads. 
I'm  sold ;  done  as  brown  as  a  Berkshire  ham/' 

A  ringing  cheer  came  up  the  wind  from  Dick-Rae's 
saucy  little  yacht.  The  boats  took  it  up,  and  gave  them 
back  three  times  three,  and  a  small  one  added  for  luck. 
Then  a  farewell  gun  was  fired,  and  the  happy  party  filled 
again,  and  bore  up  for  the  Isle  of  Wight. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WITH   A   CONVOY   TO    THE    WEST    INDIES. 

"  Xow  the  ship  is  under  way, 
The  breeze  so  -willing 
The  canvas  filling, 

The  press'd  triangle  cracks  the  stay, 
So  taut  to  haul  the  sheet  we  know. 
We  fondly  gaze  on  eyes  that  seem 

In  parting  with  big  tears  to  stream. 
But  come,  lest  ours  should  as  fast  flow ; 
To  the  windlass  once  more  go, 
With  Yeo !  heave  ho  !  " 

—Dildin. 


VERYBODY  liked  Archie   Fitzgerald   the 
new  midshipman,  from  tlie  very  first  day 
he  joined  the  mess,  and  that  was  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  runaway  match  described 
in  the  last  chapter. 

About  eighteen  years  old,  Archie  was,  and  Irish, — a 
tall,  fair-haired,  well-built  lad,  with  blue  eyes  and  a  face 
of  great  expression;  for  like  the  sunshine  and  showers 
that  sweep  in  spring  time  over  his  own  green  island, 
sadness  and  mirth  seemed  to  struggle  for  the  mastery  on 
his  countenance. 

272 


With  a  Convoy  to  the  West  Indies.      273 

He  was  polite  to  a  degree  that  recalled  the  old  days  of 
chivalry  ;  but  any  one  could  see  that  Archie's  politeness 
was  not  assumed,  it  was  part  of  his  very  nature,  the 
outcome  of  generous,  kindly  feelings  that  would  not  bo 
hidden. 

Archie  was  very  much  amused  at  Willie  Grant's 
account  of  Benbow's  wedding.  His  eyes  sparkled  with 
delight  as  Willie  graphically  described  the  scene  of  the 
abduction  in  the  forest  and  the  grand  chase  through  the 
beautiful  woods. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  cried,  "isn't  it  I  who  would  have  given 
worlds  to  have  been  there  myself.  But  boys,"  he  added, 
"it  is  a  common  thing  in  Ireland." 

His  messmates  laughed. 

"  Yes,  indeed/'  said  Archie.  "  It  isn't  joking  I  am,  a 
bit.  Sure,  the  girls  prefer  it ;  they  like  to  be  run  away 
with." 

"  What  !  against  the  wishes  of  their  parents  ?  "  said 
Willie. 

"  No,  I  don't  say  that ;  and  there's  where  the  fun  comes 
in.  The  parents  may  be  as  willing  for  the  match  as  any 
of  them ;  but  the  young  lady  lets  on  that  they  aren't. 
So  there  is  a  grand  elopement  some  fine  moonlight  night, 
with  the  priest,  maybe,  waiting  twenty  miles  away,  in 
some  old  castle,  and  everything  as  neat  and  pretty  as 
shoes  and  buckles  on  a  fair  maid's  feet. 

11  Well,  as  soon  as  the  youngsters  in  their  carriage  or 
car  have  got  a  fair  start,  out  comes  the  father  in  his 
carnage,  postillions  and  all  complete. 


274  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

" '  Now,'  he  says  to  the  boys,  '  don't  overtake  them 
for  the  loife  av  ye.  'Twould  spoil  the  fun/ 

"Crack  go  the  whips.  ' Hurrah!'  cry  the  postillions, 
and  away  they  go,  helter-skelter,  up  hill  and  down  dale. 
Then,  may  be,  towards  the  end  there  js  a  bit  of  a  break- 
down in  the  pater's  carriage.  This  is  all  sham,  sure 
enough,  and  the  indignant  father  comes  rushing  in,  whip 
in  hand,  just  as  the  proceedings  are  concluded,  as  neat 
as  you  please.  Then  he  forgives  and  blesses  them,  and 
home  they  all  go  together,  and  the  dancing  and  fun  are 
kept  up  for  a  fortnight.  That's  the  way  they  do  it  in  the 
west  of  old  Ireland." 

Dick-Rae  dropped  in  after  dinner,  and  took  his  old 
seat. 

"  In  three  days  we  are  off  with  this  convoy." 

"Tell  me,  sir,"  said  Archie  Fitzgerald,  "what  this 
convoying  business  is  like.  I've  never  had  the  honour, 
you  know.  Is  it  pleasant  at  all  ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  Dick-Rae,  "  it  all  depends  upon  taste. 
Some  might  think  it  pleasant.  J  don't.  Now  for 
instance,  we  are  off  to  the  West  Indies,  with  about  a 
dozen  craft  of  different  kinds.  Imagine  yourself,  then, 
on  shore  having  to  walk  a  distance  of  three  miles  from 
church  in  charge  of  and  escorting  four  or  five  old  maids 
and  half  a  dozen  children  of  various  ages.  There  is 
nobody  but  yourself  to  protect  them,  and  the  road  is  very 
lonely  and  lined  with  tramps.  You  yourself  are  hungry, 
and  there  is  the  certainty  of  an  excellent  dinner  when 
you  get  home ;  but  these  old  maids  won't  walk  more  than 


With  a  Convoy  to  the  West  Indies.      275 

a  mile  and  a  half  an  hour,  while  your  usual  form  is  four 
to  five.  They  keep  starting,  too,  at  every  waving  bush, 
or  saying,  '  Oh  !  I'm  sure  there's  an  awful  man  behind 
that  tree,  we  shall  all  be  murdered.'  You  have  got  to 
assure  them  over  and  over  again  there  is  no  danger,  and 
if  a  tramp  does  come  swaggering  along,  and  look  at  them, 
you  have  got  to  fight  him  with  all  your  convoy  hanging 
on  to  your  coat-tails." 

"  A  pleasant  picture  !  "  said  Archie. 

"  Yes;  and  some  of  the  small  fry  are  for  ever  dropping 
behind,  and  you've  got  to  cruise  round  after  them  and 
bring  them  up,  like  a  collie  dog  with  straggling  sheep. 
That  is  a  picture  of  convoying  on  shore.  Convoying  by 
sea  is  much  the  same — only  worse." 

***** 

The  comparison  drawn  above  by  Dick-Rae  in  the  gun- 
room mess  was  indeed  a  good  one.  However,  on  this  long 
and  lazy  voyage  to  the  West  Indies  every  one,  fore  and 
aft,  was  determined  to  enjoy  themselves  to  the  utmost. 

Captain  Oldrey  and  the  wardroom  officers  seemed  bent 
on  making  things  as  comfortable  and  pleasant  for  all 
hands  as  possible.  But  the  duty  was  strictly  carried  out, 
nevertheless,  and  midshipman  Fitzgerald  turned  out  to 
be  an  excellent  young  officer. 

He  used  to  be  up  in  the  morning,  both  he  and  Willie 
Grant,  long  before  there  was  really  any  occasion  if  their 
watches  were  below.  But  they  liked  to  paddle  about  the 
decks  during  the  time  the  hose  was  playing  around,  with 
naked  feet  and  trousers  rolled  up  to  the  knees.  Then 


276  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

they  would  Lave  a  hose -bath,  that  is  they  had  the  hose 
played  over  them ;  so  that  what  with  one  thing  and 
another,  they  used  to  go  down  below  to  breakfast  with 
the  appetites  of  a  couple  of  old  hunters. 

This  wholesome,  healthful  way  of  spending  their  morn- 
ing was  in  strange  contrast  to  the  method  adopted  by 
Mr.  Smart — the  poor  lazy  youth  who  spent  his  existence 
poring  over  never-to-be-learned  logarithms — and  the 
dandy  purser's  clerk,  Mr.  Salmon.  Neither  ever  appeared 
till  breakfast  was  well  through  ;  then  they  only  dawdled 
over  it,  very  often  grumbling  and  growling  because  the 
viands  were  not  more  savoury. 

Between  England  and  the  Azores,  at  which  islands  a 
call  was  to  be  made  for  water,  the  weather  was  about  on 
its  worst  behaviour.  A  gale  first,  and  too  much  of  it  by 
far,  albeit  it  blew  in.  the  right  direction.  It  required  all 
the  skill  and  seamanship  of  the  skippers  of  the  various 
vessels  to  enable  them  to  sail  with  anything  like  an 
equality  of  speed.  Some  were  ahead  of  the  Castile,  others 
far  astern,  and  long  Tom  Thumb  the  signalman  was  at 
work  nearly  all  day,  and  every  day,  till  he  declared  that 
little  more  would  finish  him. 

•  "  What  a  trate  for  the  sharks  you'd  be,  Tom,"  said 
Paddy  Flint.  "  It  is  two  of  them  could  dine  off  ye  aisily 
enough — one  at  each  end,  ating  away  till  they  came  to 
the  centre."  ,. 

But  long  Tom  was  not  the  only  one  who  was  hard 
worked,  for  a  very  bright  look  out  had  to  be  kept,  both 
by  night  and  day,  and  all  kinds  of  lights  kept  burning. 


With  a  Convoy  to  the  West  Indies.      277 

If  a  strange  sail  was  sighted,  especially  if  she  looked  a 
bit  suspicious,  it  was  marvellous  to  see  how  speedily  the 
little  fleet  crept  together,  till  assured  by  long  Tom  that 
all  was  safe  ;  then,  like  birds  when  the  hawk  flies  away  to 
his  woods,  they  would  scatter  again. 

After  the  gale  of  wind  a  series  of  terrible  squalls 
occurred. 

No  one  who  has  not  been  on  board  a  ship  struck  by  a 
white  squall  can  have  the  remotest  idea  of  the  imminence 
of  the  danger  if  the  vessel  has  not  had  sail  taken  in,  in 
time.  Why  they  call  it  a  white  squall  I  cannot  say,  unless 
from  the  fact  that  a  long  white  line  with  a  misty  cloud 
over  it  on  the  horizon  is  often  the  first  indication  one 
gets  of  the  approach.  That  white  line  is  broken  water, 
and  in  a  very  short  time  your  vessel  will  be  in  the  midst 
of  it,  and  the  wind  roaring  and  howling  and  shrieking 
through  the  rigging,  as  if  a  whole  menagerie  of  wild 
beasts  had  suddenly  boarded  you.  If  sails  have  not  been 
taken  in  with  sufficient  celerity,  woe  betide  you  if  they 
are  not  rent  in  ribbons,  going  off  like  guns,  and  con- 
tinuing the  racket  with  a  noise  like  platoon  firing. 

In  one  of  these  squalls  a  brig  went  down.  She  was 
visible  in  the  rear  before  it  came  on,  when  it  blew  over 
there  was  no  vestige  of  her  to  be  seen.  With  all  her 
brave  crew  she  had  gone  beneath — taken  aback,  in  all 
probability ;  she  had  died  and  made  no  sign. 

The  weather  was  fine  for  days  before  the  lofty  Mount 
Pico  was  sighted,  which  towers  to  a  height  of  nearly 
eight  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  blue  sea. 


278  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

It  was  off  the  island  of  San  Miguel  that  the  Castile  and 
her  convoy  lay  while  water  and  fruit  were  taken  on 
board.  Many  of  the  Castile's  crew  were  sick,  and  so 
were  others  in  the  fleet,  so* that  oranges  and  good  water 
were  things  to  be  thankful  for. 

Although  time  was  an  object,  still  Captain  Oldrey  did 
not  hinder  his  officers  from  having  several  cruises  on 
shore. 

One  whole  day  was  spent  by  Dick-Rae,  Willie  Grant, 
and  Archie,  the  new  midshipman. 

I  wish  I  could  tell  you  a  tenth  of  all  the  strange  and 
beautiful  that  met  their  gaze  wherever  they  went,  or  a 
fifth  part  of  the  fun  they  had. 

The  quaint  streets  and  houses  of  Ponto  Delgado,  the 
curiously  dressed  men  and  women  that  thronged  the 
thoroughfares,  mostly  Portuguese,  with  a  sprinkling  of 
the  nigger  element.  The  lovely  gardens,  the  orange- 
groves,  and  pine-apple  plantations,  the  fish  ponds  alive 
with  golden  and  silver  fish  ;  and  out  in  the  country  the 
terribly  wild  scenery,  the  splendid  forests,  the  yawning 
gulfs,  the  volcanic  craters  spouting  forth  mud  and  steam, 
the  ever-changing  views,  the  ferns,  the  flowers,  and  the 
azure  sea  itself,  with  its  blue  waves  breaking  in  silvery 
lines  on  the  beach  or  thundering  against  the  awful  and 
dizzy  cliffs.  From  beginning  to  end,  that  day  on  shore 
was  like  one  long,  bright,  busy,  happy  dream. 

Lights  were  twinkling  in  the  town,  and  here  and  there 
on  the  sea,  when  the  boat  at  last  left  the  shore ;  and 
over  all  the  scene  a  broad  moon  shone  down,  and  land 


With  a  Convoy  to  the  West  Indies.      279 

and  water,  and  the  distant  mountains  on  \vhich  white 
clouds  were  resting,  were  bathed  in  its  dreamy  light. 

With  little  adventure  worth  relating,  and  without 
danger  of  any  kind, — the  sun  shining  bright  all  day  long, 
the  stars  or  moon  as  clear  at  night,  the  sea  at  times 
resplendent  with  phosphorescent  light  that  turned  even 
sharks  into  fishes  of  fire,  and  sparkled  on  the  long  fin- 
wings  of  flying  fish,  with  a  glorious  breeze  and  a  rippling 
ocean, — the  Castile  and  her  convoy  made  good  way,  and 
touched  at  Bermudas  fifteen  days  after  they  had  left  the 
Azores. 

One  vessel  took  the  ground  here,  and  as  it  happened 
to  be  high  water  at  the  time,  it  was  found  impossible  to 
get  her  off;  at  all  events  the  Castile  would  not  wait, 
but  had  to  leave  her  to  the  tender  mercies  of  others. 
Indeed,  when  the  tide  receded,  she  was  high  if  not  dry, 
for  on  the  coral  reef  around  her  men  could  walk. 

The  boys  and  Dr.  Curver  spent  one  or  two  very 
pleasant  days  on  shore  here,  and  other  parties  went 
fishing.  Some  of  the  fish  caught  were  too  beautiful  to 
eat,  others  far  too  grotesque  in  shape. 

Dr.  Curver  of  course  was  collecting  specimens  with  the 
help  of  his  boys,  among  whom  was  Josh,  a  very  busy- 
body of  a  boy  indeed.  I  am  sure  the  boys  enjoyed 
themselves,  for  the  good  doctor  kept  them  laughing, 
and  he  fed  them  well,  and  they  returned  to  the  Castile 
singing  "Auld  lang  syne." 

But  one  little  adventure  which  Curver  had  in  pursuit 
of  science  I  must  permit  him  to  relate  in  his  own 


280  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

words.  It  was  at  mess  on  the  same  evening  he  told  his 
yaru. 

"  Mr.  Purser  Perkins,"  he  said,  laughing. 

"  Sir  to  you,"  said  Purser  Perkins. 

"  You  must  tell  that  dandy  clerk  of  yours  I  want  a 
pair  of  shoes." 

"  Why,"  said  the  purser,  "  I  let  you  have  a  pair  only 
yesterday." 

"  That  you  did,  Perkins,  and  they  are  gone.  I  sigh 
when  I  think  of  it.  Pass  the  pine-apple,  Perkins." 

"  Yes,  but  tell  us  about  your  shoes." 

"  Yes,"  cried  Dick-Kae,  "  spin  us  a  yarn,  doctor." 

"  It  isn't  much  of  a  yarn,"  said  Curver;  "but  you 
know  I  and  my  boys  landed  to-day  on  a  bonnie  little 
bit  of  an  island  that  didn't  seem  inhabited.  I  left  the 
lads  to  bathe  and  enjoy  themselves,  and  cook  the  tiffin, 
while  I  started  for  a  run  into  the  interior.  I  should  tell 
you  that,  except  in  the  little  cove  where  the  boat  was 
drawn  up,  the  island  is  surrounded  by  black,  hard,  beet- 
ling cliffs. 

"  Well,  off  I  started,  and  soon  found  a  little  beast- trod- 
den path  that  led  me  for  a  whole  mile  through  one  of  the 
tangliest,  scrubbiest  bits  of  jungle  I  ever  remember. 
The  path  was  very  narrow,  and  I  had  to  bend  very  low- 
to  get  along  at  all.  I  came  out  at  last  into  a  clearing,  in 
what  I  suppose  was  the  centre  of  the  island.  There  were 
a  few  bread-fruit  trees  growing  here,  but  nothing  more 
interesting  was  to  be  seen ;  so  I  started  back  again  for 
the  beach.  I  had  not  gone  many  yards  before  I  dis- 


With  a  Convoy  to  the  West  Indies.      281 

covered  a  snake,  of  very  questionable  appearance,  de- 
pending from  a  bougli  right  over  my  path.  A  morsel  of 
wood  or  chip  of  bark  would  have  dislodged  it,  but  hap- 
pening to  spy  another  footpath  that  apparently  led 
beachwards,  I  struck  into  that  and  continued  on.  There 
were  many  other  little  paths  in  the  jungle,  and  I  took 
those  I  considered  right,  with  the  result  of  soon  getting 
completely  lost,  bewildered,  and  unable  to  tell  east  from 
west.  There  was  nothing  for  it  now  but  to  shout,  which 
I  did  with  a  will,  and  by-and-by  the  men  answered  me, 
and  I  immediately  commenced  struggling  through  the 
tanglement  in  the  direction  of  the  sound.  With  torn 
clothes  and  bleeding  face  and  hands,  I  got  out  at  last 
on  to  the  top  of  the  cliff  that  overhung  the  sea,  and 
found  myself  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  little  bay 
where  the  boats  were.  Now,  I  have  walked  on  many 
strange  places  in  my  time,  but  never  before  on  such  a 
surface  as  that  cliff- top  presented.  It  resembled  an 
immense  petrified  honeycomb  or  sponge,  with  edges 
sharp  as  knives.  I  had  not  gone  a  hundred  yards  before 
the  uppers  of  my  shoes  were  completely  cut  away  from 
the  soles. 

"  What  now  was  to  be  done  ?  I  was  indeed  in  a 
difficulty,  not  to  say  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma.  To 
proceed  even  a  few  paces  without  shoes  would  have 
resulted  in  fearful  laceration  of  the  feet.  I  couldn't 
stand  there  all  day,  and  to  sit  down  would  have  been 
worse.  Happily  my  presence  of  mind  did  not  desert  me. 
I  quickly  divested  myself  of  my  jacket,  which  I  folded 


282  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

up  and  laid  down  a  yard  in  front  of  me.  Leaving  the 
remains  of  my  shoes  behind,  I  stepped  nimbly  on  to  my 
jacket,  and  proceeded  to  take  off  and  fold  up  my  only 
other  available  garment,  placing  it  down  in  front,  and 
stepping  on  to  it  in  turn.  Thus  stepping  from  garment 
to  garment,  putting  each  one  in  front  alternately,  my 
mode  of  progression  was  slow  but  safe.  But,  bare- 
legged, upon  that  breezy  cliff-top,  in  such  scanty  deshabille, 
I  must  have  presented  a  singular  sight.  I  don't  wonder 
that  some  of  the  boys,  after  looking  at  mo  for  a  moment, 
had  to  lie  down  on  the  sands  to  laugh,  and  I  forgave  the 
lot  of  them  for  cheering  me.  It  was  fun  to  them,  but  a 
very  serious  business  to  the  principal  actor.  Verily  the 
pursuit  of  science  in  foreign  countries  leads  one  many  a 
droll  dance." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "  laughed  the  merry  purser,  "  it  was 
well  for  you,  doctor,  there  were  no  pleasure-boats  cruising 
about." 

"  For  goodness  sake,  Perkins  !  the  bare  idea  of  such  a 
possibility  would  have  caused  me  to  faint  on  the  cliff-top. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CONTAINING   MANY   STEANGE   ADVENTURES. 

"  STILL  onward,  fair  the  breeze,  nor  rough  the  surge, 
The  blue  waves  sport  around  the  stern  they  urge." 

- — Byron. 

T  was  a  lovely  evening,  just  enough  wind 
— or  rather  warm  air — to  raise  a  gentle 
ripple  on  the  waters  and  keep  the  sails 
well  full ;  almost  every  vessel  of  the  con- 
voy carried  stunsails,  so  that  before  the  sun  went  down, 
and  from  a  distance,  the  fleet  must  have  looked  like  a 
flock  of  gigantic  sea-birds  afloat  on  the  water. 

Far  away  on  the  western  horizon  were  the  hills  of 
Jamaica,  barely  distinguishable  against  a  rock-work  of 
clouds  behind  which  the  sun  was  declining  in  rosy 
splendour. 

Lower  and  lower  it  sank,  till  it  disappeared  behind 
the  cloudlaud,  edging  the  upper  portion  with  a  broad 
line  of  gold. 

Long  after  he  had  sunk,  one  crimson  cloudlet  stood 
high  in  the  air,  like  a  pillar  of  fire,  but  this  changed  at 


284  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

last  to  purple,  and  then  to  grey,  and  stars  came  out  in  the 
east,  and  a  half  moon  shed  its  silvery  light  on  the  waves. 
The  convoy  at  sunset  was  well  together,  and  the  signals 
had  been  made  to  take  in  sail  and  make  all  snug  for  the 
night ;  for  safety  now  was  more  to  be  considered  than 
speed  itself. 

It  might  have  been  about  ten  o'clock,  although  four 
bells  had  not  struck,  when  suddenly  over  the  water,  from 
one  of  the  vessels  in  the  rear,  rang  out  the  boom  of  a 
signal  gun. 

Something  was  wrong,  that  was  evident  enough. 

The  Castile  was  rounded  to  with  all  speed,  and  hardly 
had  the  sails  been  adjusted,  and  silence  once  more  re- 
stored, than  from  the  direction  in  which  the  Walbeck — a 
barque — lay  came  the  noise  and  din  as  of  a  fierce  conflict. 
There  were  wild  shouts,  and  the  clashing  of  swords,  a 
heaving,  thudding  noise,  as  of  timbers  being  knocked 
about,  and  every  now  and  again  a  blood-curdling  shriek, 
as  if  from  some  one  in  an  agony  of  pain  and  terror. 

"  Stand  by  the  bow- chasers  !  "  cried  Captain  Oldrey. 
"  All  ready  on  the  main-deck  ?  " 

"  All  ready,  sir,  and  the  men  at  the  guns." 

On  tacked  the  Castile,  but  all  was  now  silent  as  the 
grave  on  the  Walbeclc,  and  even  her  lights  were  lowered. 

When  the  frigate  got  near  enough  to  see  anything  dis- 
tinctly, they  noticed  a  long,  low,  lateen-rigged  vessel  leave 
the  Walbeck's  side,  and  go  off  like  a  bird  before  the  wind. 
The  barque,  too,  had  altered  her  course,  and  was  stand- 
ing out  to  sea. 


Containing  Many  Strange  Adventures.    285 

"  That  is  a  picaroon,"  said  Mr.  Hayes,  "  and  the  Wai- 
beck  is  captured." 

"  Let  her  have  it,  if  you  can,  Hayes,"  said  the  cap- 
tain. 

Not  to  alter  the  course  of  the  Castile,  broadside  guns 
were  fired,  but  it  was  like  trying  to  bring  down  a  night- 
hawk  with  bullets,  and  the  picaroon  sheered  rapidly  out 
of  range. 

All  efforts  were  now  directed  to  the  recapture  of  the 
Walbcck. 

This  itself  would  have  proved  in  vain  had  not  the  wiud 
—as  it  sometimes  does  in  those  seas — gone  down  almost 
suddenly. 

The  sails  on  the  WalbecJt  flapped  or  shivered,  and  her 
way  was  stopped.  Not  so  that  on  the  picaroon,  for  oars 
were  got  out,  and  away  she  went,  and  was  soon  lost  to 
view  in  the  starlight. 

"Away  boats!" 

Men  never  obeyed  a  summons  with  greater  alacrity. 

"  Tumble  up,  lads  !  tumble  up  !  "  cried  Dick-Rae 
cheerily. 

"  Ee — ee— reepity,  peepity— ee— ee,"  went  the  boat- 
swain's pipe,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  five  boats  were 
manned  and  armed,  and  being  swiftly  rowed  towards  the 
WalbecJc. 

There  were  red  marines  in  each,  and  blue-jackets, 
burning  for  the  fray. 

Captain  Buckram  was  coolly  smoking  a  cigar  in  the 
stern  sheets  of  Dick-Rae's  boat. 


286  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

As  they  advanced,  and  the  hull  of  the  WalbecJ:  showed 
darker  and  higher  in  the  water,  they  were  received  by  a 
volley  of  musketry. 

A  ringing  cheer  was  the  reply. 

"  We're  coming !  "  cried  Dick-Rae.  "  Be  with  you  in 
a  minute.  Don't  be  impatient." 

The  men  laughed,  and  sure  enough,  in  about  a  minute 
Dick's  boat  was  alongside. 

Buckram  threw  away  the  end  of  his  cigar,  drew  his 
sword  and  was  among  the  first  to  leap  on  board. 

The  vessel  swarmed  with  desperadoes,  and  the  battle 
was  a  fiercer,  tougher  one  than  had  been  anticipated. 
Victory  was  achieved  at  length,  however,  though  with 
some  loss  on  our  side.  Five  were  taken  prisoners.  These 
fellows,  who  turned  out  to  be  the  principal  officers  of  the 
picaroon,  locked  themselves  up  in  the  cabin  of  the  ship, 
and  threatened  to  fire  the  magazine. 

A  spare  spar  was  silently  handled  by  half  a  dozen 
marines.  One  blow  from  this  impromptu  battering-ram 
shivered  the  door  into  flinders,  and  the  desperadoes  were 
quickly  overpowered  and  bound  hand  and  foot. 

But  where  was  the  crew  of  the  Walbcckt  Gone,  to  a 
man, — butchered  where  they  stood,  or  pitched  overboard 
alive  to  feed  the  sharks  that  in  these  seas,  like  vultures, 
seem  to  sniff  the  battle  from  afar. 

The  calm  that  had  enabled  the  Castile  to  recapture  the 
Walbeck  was  of  short  duration.  Hardly  had  the  boats 
returned  to  the  ship,  a  crew  being  of  course  left  on  the 
merchantman,  than  from  the  westward  great  white  and 


Containing  Many  Strange  Adventures.     287 

grey  clouds  began  to  drift  upwards  and  over  the  moon ; 
when  the  latter  did  shine  out,  it  looked  very  bright  in- 
deed, and  the  sky  around  was  of  an  intense  blue,  almost 
approaching  to  black. 

Soon  the  sails  began  to  fill  again.  Signals  were  made 
to  the  convoy  to  close-reef  and  stand  out  seawards,  steer- 
ing south  and  by  east. 

At  first  it  was  feared  a  hurricane  was  approaching,  but 
although  before  many  hours  were  over  the  wind  was 
blowing  and  tearing  through  the  riggings  of  the  ships, 
and  masts  were  bending  before  it  like  fishing-rods  or 
snapping  like  reeds,  it  never  approached  to  anything  like 
the  violence  of  those  awful  circular  storms;  nor,  owing 
to  the  suddenness,  probably,  with  which  the  gale  had 
commenced,  was  the  sea  unusually  high. 

Willie  Grant  had  been  left  in  charge  of  the  WalbecJc 
with  a  picked  crew — good  men,  but  in  numbers  some- 
what few  to  fight  so  strong  a  storm.  He  had  two  men 
at  the  wheel,  and  just  as  little  sail  as  could  be  done 
with. 

The  prisoners  were  ironed  and  in  the  cabin  still.  About 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Willie  was  walking  along 
the  upper  deck  when  he  noticed  that  the  light  had  gone 
out  in  the  cabin.  At  the  same  time  he  thought  ho 
noticed  a  dark  figure  creep  stealthily  past  the  sentry  and 
make  its  way  to  the  hatch  that  led  to  the  lower  deck. 
Here  was  the  spirit  room,  and  right  above  it  the  maga- 
zine, though  in  different  decks ;  merchant  ships  were 
obliged  to  carry  arms,  and  stow  them  where  they  could. 


288  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


Willie  went  hastily  down  below.  The  sentry  had  seen 
nothing.  He  took  a  light  and  entered  the  cabin.  One 
prisoner  was  gone,  and  the  others  grinned  at  him  in 
hateful  defiance. 

Now  Willie  had  been  all  over  the  ship  twice  already ; 
he  could  find  his  way  in  the  dark,  and  as  this  would  give 
him  an  advantage  over  a  cunning  foe — himself  carrying 
no  light — he  did  not  hesitate  a  moment,  but  slipping  off 
his  shoes  dived  below.  With  the  exception  of  the  creak- 
ing  of  the  rudder  hinges  and  the  jerking  sound  of  the 
ship's  timbers  there  was  but  little  noise  down  here. 

But  look  along  the  narrow  passage ;  there  crouches 
a  man,  his  face  visible  in  the  light  of  a  dimly  burning 
lantern.  There  is  near  him  a  heap  of  tow.  He  is  arrang- 
ing it,  and  about  to  apply  the  light,  when,  like  a  young 
tiger,  Willie  springs  on  him  from  behind.  The  light  goes 
out.  Then  in  the  darkness  of  that  narrow  passage  there 
is  a  fearful  struggle  for  life. 

There  is  a  dagger  in  the  hands  of  the  desperado,  and 
twice  Willie  feels  its  cold  touch  on  his  neck. 

How  the  struggle  might  have  ended  it  is  impossible 
to  say,— for  one  is  armed,  and  fierce  as  a  tiger  cub,  the 
other  has  but  his  own  young  strength  and  limbs  to  de- 
pend upon ;  but  a  light  soon  appears  on  the  scone,  and 
the  would-be  murderer  is  rolled  senseless  with  the  butt 
end  of  a  musket. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  prisoners  had  no  further 
chance  given  them  of  escaping. 

It  seemed  strange  that  instead  of  liberating  the  other 


Containing  Many  Strange  Adventures.     289 

prisoners,  -when  lie  himself  got  free,  the  desperado 
should  havo  beat  his  energies  to  an  attempt  to  fire  the 
ship. 

The  longest  night  has  an  end,  an,d  Willie  was  glad 
indeed  when  the  sun  once  more  rose  up  through  a  yellow 
haze,  and  shone  over  the  Caribbean  Sea,  and  gladder 
still  when  from  the  mast-head  he  saw  the  Castile,  and 
every  vessel  of  the  convoy  safe  and  sound.  The  wind 
had  gone  down,  and  in  two  days'  time  the  ships  were 
under  the  protection  of  Port  Royal  batteries,  and  the 
Castile's  duties  were  over  for  a  time. 

In  a  few  weeks  time  she  would  return  with  a  convoy. 

Meanwhile  the  prisoners  from  the  Walbeck  were  tried 
on  shore  and  condemned  to  death,  and  to  die  by  the  rope 
on  board  the  unfortunate  barque  they  had  caused  to  be 
stained  with  blood. 

The  desperadoes — Cubans  they  were  of  the  worst  and 
most  reckless  type — were  returned  to  the  ship,  and  next 
morning  brought  on  deck  to  meet  their  doom.  Stern, 
pale,  but  reckless  withal,  they  appeared.  They  glanced 
around  them,  and  appeared  to  take  some  interest  in  the 
preparations,  but  refused  all  spiritual  consolation.  The 
marines,  with  fixed  bayonets,  stood  by  the  gangways, 
officer  and  men  of  the  Castile  on  the  quarter-deck,  facing 
forward.  There  were  many  .armed  boats  alongside,  and 
the  riggings  of  every  ship  were  manned,  while  the  water 
was  covered  in  all  directions  with  noisy  shore-boats  and 
their  gabbling  crews  of  sightseers.  The  platform  was 
erected  on  the  foVsle,  the  men  mounted  with  slow  but 

T 


290  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

firm  step.  The  signal  gun  was  fired.  It  was  a  startling 
report,  and  almost  at  the  same  moment  the  wretches 
were  hoisted  aloft,  and  soon  were  no  more  as  far  as  this 
world  is  concerned. 


As  the  Castile  would  not  leave  Jamaica  for  nearly 
three  weeks,  there  was  ample  time  for  both  officers  and 
men,  who  were  so  inclined,  to  see  something  of  life  on 
this  strange  and  beautiful  island. 

Great  changes  have  taken  place  since  the  time  in  which 
the  scene  of  my  story  is  laid,  but  travelling  in  those  days 
was  usually  performed — by  those  who  could  afford  it — on 
horseback. 

Dr.  Curver  and  his  boys  were  on  shore  many  times, 
and  as  they  could  not  have  horses,  and  had  to  walk,  the 
doctor  tramped  alongside  them. 

On  some  of  these  trips  into  the  interior,  Curver  and 
his  little  men  were  joined  by  that  trio  of  officers  who 
seemed  determined  to  see  all  that  could  be  seen 
wherever  they  went,  Willie,  Dick,  and  Archie.  The 
heat  during  the  day,  however,  was  intense,  and  in  some 
parts  the  dust  aggravated  the  discomfort. 

But  the  scenery  was  sublime,  enchanting  !  Let  me  try 
to  describe  one  day  on  shore. 

It  was  meant  for  a  picnic,  so  the  doctor  determined  to 
ride  to-day,  taking  with  him  only  a  few  of  his  strongest 
boys  to  carry  luncheon,  and  these  could  walk  or  run  if 
they  chose.  Long  before  the  sun  rose,  or  was  dreaming 


Containing  Many  Strange  Adventures.    291 

of  rising,  the  boats  started  for  Kingston.  A  gentle  breeze 
was  blowing,  and  it  was  made  the  most  of;  and  while  it 
bowled  the  boats  along,  it  refreshed  all  hands  and  made 
every  one  happy  and  cheerful. 

They  got  well  away  into  the  interior  before  sunrise, 
along  a  lovely  valley,  over  roads  that  certainly  were  rough 
enough,  but  the  shrubs  and  hedgerows  of  cactus,  and 
the  banks  were  adorned  with  a  wealth  of  floral  beauty 
that  is  simply  indescribable,  and  once  seen  can  never 
be  forgotten. 

But  the  main  road  was  exchanged  at  last  for  mountain 
climbing,  and  horses  had  to  be  left  in  charge  of  the  ac- 
companying negroes,  faithful  hired  fellows,  who  seemed 
delighted  to  do  anything  for  "  de  buckree  sailor  gem- 
lums." 

The  hill  top  is  reached  at  last,  just  as  the  sun,  for  some 
time  heralded  by  clouds  of  gold  and  crimson,  rose 
majestically  over  the  distant  peaks  of  the  Blue  Moun- 
tains. Mists  now,  that  had  been  lying  low  in  valleys  and 
looked  like  vast  sheets  of  water,  begin  to  dissolve. 

It  is  quiet  and  still  up  here,  but  signs  of  life  and 
activity  already  begin  to  show  iu  the  beautiful  landscape 
beneath.  Smoke  rolls  slowly  up  from  the  plantations. 
Gangs  of  negroes  go  merrily  field  wards  to  the  cane 
brakes,  and  droves  of  lowing  cattle  appear  iu  the  pasture 
lands,  as  the  fog  lifts  oflf.  It  is  as  if  a  curtain  was  raised 
from  nature's  own  stage.  The  whole  scene,  let  the  eye 
rest  wherever  it  likes,  is  wild,  romantic,  and  lovely.  la 
the  plantations  and  copses  not  far  beneath,  birds  are 


292  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

trilling  their  soft  low  morning  songs,  interrupted  every 
moment  by  the  insolent  chattering  of  parrots.  Far  to 
the  south  is  the  blue,  quiet  sea  itself,  while  the  sky  above 
is  almost  cloudless. 

There  is  a  delightful  breeze  up  here  at  this  early  time 
of  day,  but  by-and-by  the  birds  will  cease  to  sing,  and 
retire  to  sit  open-mouthed  and  panting  under  the  green 
shade  of  the  plaintain  groves,  and  the  cattle  will  seek 
shelter  under  those  splendid  trees  that  bound  their 
pasture-lands. 

And  now  second  breakfast  is  eaten  and  relished,  the 
first  was  a  mere  offput. 

Then  the  business  of  the  day,  and  that  is  sight- 
seeing or  the  collection  of  strange  specimens  of  natural 
history,  is  gone  into  with  as  much  zeal  as  if  it  were  a 
duty. 

It  is  in  the  mountain  regions  where  the  grandest 
scenery  is  to  be  found,  for  this  island  is  not  all  a  paradise 
by  any  means ;  but  long  before  night  our  visitors  are 
satiated  with  pleasure,  aye,  I  may  as  well  tell  all  the  truth, 
and  say  tired ;  and  though  at  sunset  the  beauty  of  the 
landscape  around  them,  and  the  caltn  serenity  of  the 
evening  hour,  threw  a  glamour  over  many  that  kept 
them  silent,  still  the  harsh  greeting  voices  of  the  parrots, 
and  the  insolent  inquisitiveness  of  mosquitoes  somewhat 
marred  the  effect,  albeit  the  air  was  laden  with  the 
odours  from  a  thousand  bright  (lowers  now  closing  their 
petals  for  the  night. 

On  the  way  back,  Dr.  Curver  was  telling  his  boys  of 


Containing  Many  Sirange  Adventures. 

adventures  lie  himself  had  engaged  in  some  years  before, 
when  our  troops  were  on  the  warpath  in  these  very  glens 
against  the  savage  maroons  or  aborigines  of  the  island. 
He  was  recounting  how  our  fellows  often  came  off  second 
best  in  fights  against  these  wild  men — who  after  all  were 
only  defending  their  hearths  and  homes  against  the 
tyranny  of  their  oppressors — because  they  marched 
through  the  villages  with  flags  flying,  and  drums  beating, 
exposed  to  attacks  from  every  side  by  a  ruthless  enemy 
who  seldom  allowed  himself  to  be  even  seen. 

A  few  days  after  this,  hot  though  it  was,  Dick-Rae  and 
party  went  shooting,  and  having  succeeded  in  getting 
a  good  guide — a  Maroon, — although  the  sport  was  very 
fatiguing,  they  managed  to  get  a  good  bag,  includ- 
ing some  species  of  wild  duck,  plover,  quails  and 
pigeons. 

But  the  great  event  of  the  day  rested  in  the  fact  that 
poor  little  Josh  got  all  but  gobbled  up  by  an  alligator. 
Nobody  saw  the  occurrence,  and  had  the  awful  reptile 
succeeded  in  his  intentions — there  would  have  been  no 
Josh  left.  As  it  was,  the  monster  Jiorrendus  snapped  a 
well-filled  bag  of  game  clean  off  the  boy's  back ;  he  was 
content  to  swallow  that,  so  Josh  got  away. 

"  Well,  what  matters  it,  an  inch  of  a  miss  is  as  good  as 
a  mile."  That  is  what  Willie  told  his  friend.  "You 
may  be  glad,"  he  added  "  that  it  wasn't  your  head  he 
got  hold  of,  instead  of  the  bag." 

"  Would  he  have  swallowed  me  whole  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  no,  not  quite,  at  least  not  just  then.     He  would 


294  In  iJie  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

have  put  you  in  his  cupboard  under  a  stone  beneath  the 
water,  till  tender." 

When  the  party  returned  on  board,  however,  and  Josh's 
adventure  was  related,  science  stepped  in,  in  the  shape 
of  Dr.  Curver,  who  informed  our  hero  that  the  Jamaica 
alligator,  though  sometimes  reaching  a  length  of  nearly 
fifteen  feet,  lived  principally  on  fish,  and  only  came  on 
shore  during  the  hottest  hours  of  the  day.  The  creature, 
therefore,  who  snapped  at  Josh  must  have  done  so  in 
defence  of  her  young  ones,  that  might  have  been  near 
her. 

While  Willie  was  having  breakfast  next  morning,  he 
received  a  summons  to  the  captain's  cabin. 

"I'm  sorry  to  say,  Mr.  Grant/5  said  Captain  Oldrey, 
"  we  are  going  to  Icse  you  for  a  time,  if  not  for  ever." 

"  Indeed,  sir  !  " 

ff  Yes  j  but  it  ought  to  be  good  news  to  you.  You  are 
wanted  to  fill  the  position  of  acting  third  lieutenant  on 
the  Dardanelle.  I  trust  you  will  like  it,  do  well,  and  be 
promoted  as  soon  as  you  return  to  England." 

Willie  said  little  more  than  "  Thank  you,  very  much, 
sir."  Then  he  retired. 

He  went  back  and  finished  his  breakfast  almost  in 
silence,  then  he  ran  up  on  deck,  where  he  found  Dick- 
Rae. 

"  We'll  be  sorry  to  lose  you,"  said  Dick. 

"  And  on  my  honour,  I'll  be  sorry  to  go.  It  may  be 
for  my  good,  and  my  advancement,  but  indeed,  indeed, 
I  doubt ;  I'd  rather  be  a  midshipman  on  the  dear  old 


Containing  Many  Strange  Adventures.    295 

Castile   than  flag-lieutenant  to   an   admiral.      But,"  lie 
added,  "  duty  is  duty." 

"  Yes/3  said  Dick-Rae,  with  a  bit  of  a  sigh  ;  "  duty  is 
everything.     Though  Fm  sorry  just  the  same." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

:(  AMEN  !     GOD   BLESS   YOU,    DEM  !  " 

'  HE  !  when  insult  hisses  near, 
Or  scorn  drops  hemlock  on  the  ear, 
Or  fraud  has  triumphed  over  right, 
Or  gentleness  is  mocked  by  might — 
Then  in  a  whirlwind  chafes  along 
The  soul  beneath  a  sense  of  wrong." 

—  Tapper. 

3  far  as  the  actual  comfort  of  skip-life 
went,  Willie  Grant  was  better  off  on  the 
64-gun  ship  Dardanelle  than  he  had  been 
on  the  Castile.  But  having  seen  so  much 

service  in  the  latter,  he  looked  upon  her  as  his  home ; 

while  in  the  new  ship 

" .    .    .    it  was  a  change, 
Faces  and  footsteps,  and  all  things  strange." 

No,  not  quite  everything,  for  he  had  begged  leave  to 
take  Josh  with  him  as  his  servant,  and  this  was  granted. 
But  as  he  had  said,  he  would  have  preferred  swinging 
in  a  hammock  on  the  orlop  deck  of  the  Castile  to  sleeping 
in  a  cot  in  a  main-deck  cabin  of  this  lordly  sixty-four. 


"Amen!  God  Bless  'You,  Dem!"        297 

He  found  his  new  messmates  everything  that  could 
be  desired:  that  was  a  comfort.  The  ship  had  been 
several  years  in  commission,  and  had  done  no  end  of 
daring  deeds,  with  that  splendid  audacity  for  which  our 
navy  has  been  famed  from  its  very  infancy. 

It  may  sound  like  boasting  on  my  part,  but  I  do  but 
write  as  I  feel,  and  I  assuredly  believe  that  the  British 
navy  of  the  present  day  is  infinitely  superior  to  any  other 
in  the  courage  and  dash  of  its  blue-jackets.  Other  nations 
may  get  as  good  ships.  Money  will  buy  a  ship,  but 
cannot  purchase  sailors,  and  it  takes  centuries  to  make 
them.  The  British  navy  has  a  pedigree  :  a  story  is  en- 
twined in  its  banner,  a  story  that  beats  all  stories  that 
have  ever  been  written  since  the  creation  of  the  world, 
penned  with  cutlass,  gun,  and  boarding  pike,  transcribed 
with  the  blood  of  heroes,  dead  and  gone.  No  officer  or 
man  can  tread  our  decks  without  feeling  the  honour  and 
responsibility  of  the  sacred  trust  that  has  been  bestowed 
upon  him,  and  feeling  that  death  were  to  be  preferred  to 
anything  that  should  tarnish  that  honour,  or  dim  for  a 
moment  a  ray  of  the  halo  which  surrounds  the 

"  Flag  that  braved  a  thousand  years 
The  battle  and  the  breeze  !  " 

At  the  time  our  Willie  Grant  joined  the  Dardanelle, 
the  war  had  been  raging  for  some  time  between  America 
and  Britain. 

I  never  can  read  the  history  of  this  fratricidal  struggle 
without  my  eyes  filling  with  tears.  No  matter  who  was 


298  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

in  fault — and  honestly  speaking,  I  do  not  think  it  was  the 
Americans — it  was  an  unnatural  war.  It  gives  me  the 
same  sort  of  shuddering  "  grue "  to  think  of  it,  that  I 
once  experienced  in  seeing  a  father  fly  cruelly  at  his  son, 
and  that  son  with  tears  in  his  eyes  hitting  the  old  man 
back  again. 

However,  war  had  been  declared,  and  already  the 
Americans  had  proved  themselves  chips  of  the  old  block, 
daring  bold  sons  of  illustrious  progenitors. 

We  had  lost  battles  by  sea.  What  brooks  it  to  say  that 
the  vessels  that  beat  us  were  better  manned  and  heavier 
gunned  than  ours,  or  to  hint  that  a  certain  Yankee  novelist 
drew  largely  upon  his  imagination  in  describing  these 
sea-fights.  Let  us  rather  give  honour  to  whom  honour 
is  due,  and  admit  we  met  for  the  first  time  in  our  history 

"  Foemen  worthy  of  our  steel." 


The  first  night  of  Willie  Grant's  promotion  to  cabin 
and  cot  was  a  very  restless  one  indeed.  It  was  his  night 
"  in  " ;  it  might  just  as  well  have  been  his  night  out,  for 
sleep  was  impossible  till  far  into  the  "wee  short  'oors"  of 
morning. 

When  his  waking  thoughts  got  composed  at  last,  they 
merged  into  toilsome,  wearying,  and  harassing  dreams. 
He  was  home  again  in  Glengair,  but  all  seemed  changed 
in  the  place,  clouds  and  gloom  hung  over  hills  and  glens, 
the  woods  were  of  an  ugly  olive  green,  and  no  longer 
resounded  with  the  song  of  birds,  but  with  mournful 


*  "Amen!  God  Bless  You,  Dem!"        299 

notes  of  night-hawk  and  owl,  the  streams  that  used  to 
go  lisping  and  murmuring  on  over  their  pebbly  beds, 
were  now  brown  and  swollen,  and  went  dashing  on  over 
boulders  and  rocks  and  fallen  trees,  now  overflowing 
their  banks  and  sweeping  through  the  broom  and  furze, 
now  settling  into  sullen-looking  pools  at  the  bottom  of 
which  he  could  see  ugly  faces  grinning  up  at  him.  Anon 
he  was  toiling  up  the  mountain  side,  where  that  strange 

star  used  to  shine,  toiling  on  after was  it  a  spirit? 

No,  it  was  Poodah ;  but  what  a  weird,  unearthly  look 
he  bad  !  The  heather  they  trod  among  was  in  bloom,  but 
oh,  see,  the  crimson  bells  drop  blood  ! 

Willie  started  in  agony;  but  he  was  tired  now,  and 
presently  he  slept  again.  Once  more  Poodah  appeared  in 
his  dream.  He  beckoned  him  on  and  on,  and  presently 
they  stood  in  the  cave  on  the  mountain  side.  Poodah 
pointed  to  the  doorway.  Willie  rushed  in,  and  there, 
lying  on  a  couch,  but  stark  and  stiff,  was  the  friend  of 
his  schooldays,  poor  Dem  ! 

He  awoke  again,  and  slept  no  more. 

It  was  soon  evident  to  Willie  that  his  step  had  not 
brought  him  happiness.  From  the  first  he  had  two 
enemies  on  board :  one  was  a  man  called  Harness ;  the 
other  was  the  captain,  Harness's  uncle,  and  bearing  the 
same  name. 

The  captain  was  a  type  of  the  old  bully,  not  then  nor 
for  years  after  extinct  in  the  service, — a  fellow  who  still 
kept  up  many  of  the  old  brutal  customs,  such  as  sending 
the  boVn  to  hit  the  men  right  and  left,  as  if  they  had 


300        "  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

been  hounds,  as  they  went;  into  the  rigging  or  came  up 
to  keep  a  watch.  A  man  whose  very  language  was  un- 
printable, and  a  disgrace  to  a  king's  quarter-deck. 

But  why  should  he  be  at  enmity  with  our  hero  ? 
Simply  because  he  considered  that  his  nephew  ought  to 
have  been  promoted  to  the  acting  vacancy.  Had  it 
occurred  at  sea,  he  would  have  been  so ;  but  it  happened 
in  harbour,  and  the  admiral  of  the  station  had  naturally 
enough  something  to  say  in  the  matter. 

From  the  moment  he  stepped  on  board,  young  Harness 
set  himself  to  hate  Willie.  This  mate  was  a  second 
edition  of  his  uncle — a  rough,  uncouth  cub,  and  a  bully 
into  the  bargain. 

One  sentence  which  he  spoke  at  Willie  on  the  second 
day  is  enough  to  prove  what  young  Harness  was.  Har- 
ness was  smoking  forward  with  some  of  his  messmates 
when  Willie  Grant  came  and  leant  for  a  moment  near  the 
fore-rigging,  and  close  to  the  group. 

"  Third  lieutenant  indeed !  "  cried  Harness,  "  as  I  was 
saying,  boys,  I  could  manufacture  a  better  officer  than 
he  out  of  a  ball  o*  spun  yarn." 

Then,  turning  immediately  round  to  the  gentleman  he 
had  insulted,  he  doffed  his  cap  with  an  insolent  bow  and 
leer,  and  said,  in  what  he  considered  humorous  English, 
"  Ho  !  I  begs  your  parding  'umbly,  sir.  Didn't  know  as 
how  you  was  a-listening.  Last  lieutenant,  sir,  never 
condescended  to  play  the  spy,  sir,  on  we  poor  gun- 
roornites." 

Willie  turned  quietly  on  his  heel  and  walked  away. 


"Amen!  God  Bless  You,  Dem!"        301 

Nothing  that  he  did  or  could  do  pleased  the  captain,  who 
ordered  him  about  as  if  he  had  been  a  galley  slave. 

An  invitation  to  dinner,  in  company  with  two  other 
wardroom  officers  and  young  Harness,  was  sent  by  the 
captain  one  day.  Willie  thought  surely  this  would  help 
to  bring  about  a  better  understanding,  and  he  entered 
the  captain's  quarters  with  quite  a  cheerful  aspect. 

Alas !  and  alas  !  he  was  mistaken.  The  meal  was  a 
ghastly  one ;  not  that  the  viands  were  not  excellent,  or 
the  wine  as  well,  but  there  was  a  cloud  over  the  table. 
The  captain  maintained  his  coarse,  domineering  manner, 
every  one  toadied  to  him  or  feared  him,  the  very  servants 
started  and  trembled  when  he  addressed  them. 

After  dinner,  when  dessert  came  on,  both  he  and  his 
pretty  nephew  drank  more  wine  than  they  ought  to  have 
done,  and  the  latter  told  anecdotes  that  pained  Willie  to 
hear. 

This  was  bad  enough,  but  when  the  captain  began  to 
pull  the  officers  of  the  Castile,  one  by  one,  to  pieces,  in  a 
most  offensive  manner,  Willie's  blood  began  to  boil. 

"You  forget,  sir,"  he  said,  "they  are  my  old  ship- 
mates." 

"  Don't  be  so  thin-skinned !  "  cried  the  captain. 

"  Nor  so  lady-like,"  added  Harry  Harness. 

The  attack  on  the  Castilites,  as  the  captain  called  them, 
was  now  renewed.  Willie  started  up  at  last. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  he  said  to  the  captain,  "  but  I  wish 
to  retire." 

' '  Then,"  shouted  Captain  Harness,  "  by  heavens  !  you 


302  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

shall  not,  sir.  I  order  you  to  sit  down.  The  service  has 
come  to  a  pretty  pass  when  a  junior  cub  of  a  lieutenant 
dares  to  dictate  to  a  post- cap  tain  in  his  own  ship." 

Willie  Grant  slowly  sat  down.  Then  he  took  an  orange 
and  began  to  cut  it  up,  saying  calmly,  as  he  did  so, — 

"  See,  sir,  I  obey  you.  I  am  at  your  table,  I  am  eating 
with  you  now;  and,  sir,  if  I  know  anything  of  the  customs 
of  society,  either  on  shore  or  afloat,  I  sit  with  you  on 
terms  of  equality,  and  I  should  think  there  was  little 
danger  of  so  refined  and  courteous  an  officer  as  Captain 
Harness  forgetting  the  duties  incumbent  on  a  host 
towards  his  guest.  I  regret  if  I  have  given  offence." 

The  captain  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  then  burst 
into  a  horse  laugh. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Well !  well !  well !  well !  "  he  cried. 
"Never  mind.  Give  us  a  song,  Harry." 

****** 

Three  weeks  after  this  refined  and  elegant  dinner 
party,  the  Dardanelle  was  cruising  off  the  coast  of  New- 
foundland. French  privateers  had  been  heard  of  in  that 
direction.  Where  is  it  that  they  were  not  heard  of,  I 
wonder,  in  those  dashing  days  of  old  ? 

It  was  in  the  early  part  of  1813,  and  the  weather,  even 
for  the  climate  and  season  of  the  year,  was  wildly  in- 
clement.  Snow  fogs  were  frequent,  often  the  frost  was 
intense,  and  the  drift  blowing  about  on  the  decks  as  it 
might  on  a  moor  or  shore. 

Little  Josh  was  in  the  mate's  watch.  I  still  call  him 
little  Josh,  for  although  now  sixteen  years  of  age,  he  was 


"Amen I  God  Bless  You,  Dem!"       303 

still  to  all  appearance  the  little  waif  of  the  wilds  we  first 
found  him.  He  was  strong  and  hardy,  however,  although 
small ;  he  really  possessed  eyes  that  seemed  to  see  what 
no  one  else  could.  He  was,  therefore,  very  frequently 
placed  on  the  outlook  in  the  fore-top  or  fore -masthead, 
and  kept  there  for  hours.  This  would  have  been  bad 
enough  in  any  climate,  but  in  weather  such  as  was  now 
encountered,  it  was  killing  even  to  a  lad  with  a  consti- 
tution like  Josh's.  But  this  was  not  the  worst. 
Harness  knew  he  was  Willie's  servant  when  off  duty,  and 
therefore  took  every  chance  of  brutally  ill-using  the  poor 
boy,  even  to  kicking  him,  so  that  Willie  Grant  bitterly 
repented  having  taken  this  faithful  little  henchman  of 
his  away  from  the  Castile,  where  he  was  happy  and  a 
favourite. 

One  day  Willie  was  standing  talking  to  Josh  by  one 
of  the  main-deck  guns  when  the  mate  came  along. 

"  Hurry  up,  you  young  muff,"  cried  Harness  to  the 
boy.  "  It's  your  watch." 

"The  bell  has  not  gone,  sir,"  said  Willie  Grant 
angrily;  "  but  go  on,  Josh." 

Away  went  the  boy. 

"  I'll  make  you  move  quicker,"  Willie  heard  the  mate 
cry.  "  I'll  make  you  move." 

Next  moment  Josh  received  a  foul  blow  on  the  neck 
from  the  mate's  clenched  fist,  and  that,  coupled  with  the 
impetus  of  his  own  forward  movement,  brought  him  to 
the  deck  with  fearful  violence.  His  brow  struck  a  ring 
bolt,  and  he  lay  still,  stunned  and  bleeding. 


304  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 


"  Get  up ! "  roared  the  mate,  lifting  his  foot  for  a 
kick. 

.  But  that  blow  never  fell,  for  next  moment  he  was 
dragged  back  with  such  a  will  that,  tripping  against  a 
gun- wheel,  he  measured  his  length  on  the  deck. 

"  Coward  !  "  hissed  Willie,  "  to  strike  a  child." 

Harness  started  to  his  feet.  He  cared  not  then  that 
Willie  was  his  superior  officer,  he  flew  at  him  like  a  wild 
cat.  Willie  kept  his  temper,  and  the  mate  went  down 
with  a  badly  bleeding  nose.  Up  again, — and  down 
again.  He  was  not  so  lively  now.  A  look  of  fearful 
bate  came  into  his  face  as  he  hissed  out  the  words, — 

"  You  shall  live  to  rue  this." 
.    The  doctor  came  up. 

"  I  have  seen  all,"  he  said  quietly,  "  and  heard  your 
words,  Mr.  Harness.  If  your  uncle  were  not  captain, 
Mr.  Grant  might  try  you  by  court-martial.  As  it  is,  you 
can  go,  but  don't  forget  my  words." 

Poor  Josh  was  put  on  the  sick  list,  and  as  far  as  he 
was  concerned  Harness's  tyranny  was  at  an  end. 

That  same  evening  Willie  found,  on  entering  his  cabin 
after  dinner,  a  card  lying  on  his  chest  of  drawers,  and 
written  on  it  these  words, — 

"  I'll  be  revenged  on  you,  H.  H." 

Willie  laughed.  "  He's  been  drinking  again,  I  sup- 
pose," he  thought. 

He  was  about  to  tear  the  card  up  when  the  doctor 
entered. 

"  Come  and  have  a  smoke,  old  man." 


Willie    kept   his  temper,   and   the   mate   went   down  with  a 
bleeding  nose. 

IPage  301. 


"Amen/  God  Bless  You,  Dem/"       305 

Willie  handed  him  the  card. 

"  Keep  that,"  said  the  doctor.  (e  It  might  come  in 
handy.  I  could  swear  to  the  scoundrel's  handwriting 
even  if  it  were  not  initialed. 

It  is  often  the  case  that  when  things  begin  to  go 
wrong  with  one,  sorrows  do  not  come  singly,  and  the 
end  is  nearer  at  hand  than  could  be  anticipated. 

Harry  Harness  had  not  long  to  wait  for  his  revenge, 
though  the  opportunity  was  not  of  his  own  seeking. 
The  Dardanclle  was  at  anchor  and  in  shelter  from  a  storm 
in  a  little  bay  off  the  coast  of  Newfoundland.  The  crew 
were  employed  making  and  mending  clothes  and  mending 
sails,  but  several  boats  had  gone  to  fetch  water,  for  at 
the  head  of  the  little  bay  was  a  village.  Harness  was  in 
charge  of  the  working  boats.  Willie  was  off  duty,  and 
had  gone  on  shore,  taking  Josh  with  him.  They  left  the 
small  village,  which  was  far  from  attractive,  and  went 
for  a  long  walk  together  across  country. 

"It  is  just  like  being  back  again  in  old  Scotland," 
said  Josh. 

The  bracing  mountain  air  blew  in  the  faces  of  both, 
and  made  them  happy  and  light-hearted  for  a  time. 

Harness  had  seen  them  going  off.  The  men  were 
having  their  dinner. 

"  I'm  bothered,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  if  I  don't  follow 
them  ;  that  I  will." 

He  looked  at  the  priming  of  his  pistol  as  he  spoke. 
One  of  the  men's  knives  was  lying  on  a  thwart  of  the 
boat.  He  slily  put  that  in  his  girdle. 

u 


306  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  I  might  have  to  use  it,"  he  thought,  "  in  self-defence. 
Oh,  only  in  self-defence  !  Fm  not  going  to  do  anything 
mean.  But  that  fine  lieutenant  might  miss  his  footing 
and  tumble  over  a  cliff  into  the  sea.  He  might.  Then 
the  sea-birds  would  sing  his  dirge." 

The  man  was  meditating  murder,  though  he  would  not 
allow  himself  to  admit  it. 

Willie  Graut  had  been  gone  about  an  hour,  but 
Harness  had  noticed  the  direction  taken  by  him. 

Presently  he  told  a  bosVs  mate  to  see  to  the  work 
until  he  returned,  he  was  going  for  a  stroll. 

Then  he  started.  He  walked  briskly  at  first,  then 
more  slowly,  kicking  the  snow  in  a  thoughtful  mood. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  may  do,  he  said  to  himself,  if 
I  go  alone.  I'll  take  a  witness.  A  quarrel  may  then 
seem  just." 

He  returned. 

"  Cleaver,"  he  called,  "  I  want  you  with  me." 

This  Cleaver  was  his  body  servant,  a  marine,  and 
allowed  by  all  to  be  what  was  called  a  "  bad  hat." 

Let  us  follow  Willie  and  Josh.  They  wandered  about 
among  the  hills  for  a  time,  then  took  a  direct  course 
across  a  neck  of  land  which  in  about  half  an  hour  brought 
them  to  a  bay. 

To  Willie's  great  astonishment  here  in  this  bay  lay  a 
heavily-armed  brigantine.  She  carried  no  flag,  but  there 
firas  no  mistaking  what  she  was.  A  French  privateer 
without  a  doubt. 

While  still  meditating  on  this  strange  discovery,  and 


"  Amen  /  God  Bless  You,  Dem  !  "       307 

uncertain  what  to  do,  armed  men  sprang  from  behind  a 
rock,  and  both  Josh  and  he  were  immediately  made 
prisoners. 

This  was  all  very  sudden  and  surprising,  but  the  surprise 
was  not  to  end  here,  for  at  that  moment  there  approached 
them  from  a  hut  near  at  hand  an  officer  in  the  uniform 
of  a  French  navy  captain. 

Brisk  and  energetic  looking,  small  in  stature,  bufc 
handsome  withal,  he  approached  the  prisoners,  and  lifting 
his  hat,  smiled  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Willie  Grant !  "  he  said.     "  God  hath  given  me  this 
long-prayed-for  pleasure." 
Willie  staggered  as  if  shot. 

"  Dem  !  "  he  cried.    *'  My  old  friend  and  schoolfellow, 
and  in  that  uniform  !     I  knew  not  what  to  think  or  do." 
Dem  laughed  one  of  his  old  merry  laughs,  and  looked 
quite  the  boy  again. 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  to  be  done,  Willie, — shake 
hands.  And  you,  too,  little  Josh  !  Why  there  is  no 
change  in  you.  Now  let  us  go  apart  where  we  may  talk 
uninterruptedly.  My  fellows  are  staring  with  astonish- 
ment, but  let  them.  I  am  captain  out  yonder." 

Dem  led  the  way  to  the  head  of  the  bay,  and  both  sat 
down  among  the  rocks,  a  good  half-mile  from  the  boat 
on  the  beach. 

Willie  felt  like  one  in  a  dream. 

But  the  ice  once  broken,  he  forgot  everything  else 
except  the  joy  at  meeting  his  friend  again.  First  Dem 
told  his  long,  strange  story.  Then  Willie  told  his. 


308  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Poor,  impulsive  Dem!  he  burst  into  tears  when  he 
heard  his  father  was  still  alive. 

"  I  could  not  have  believed  it/'  he  said.  "  Oh  !  had  I 
only  known,  it  might  have  been  different.  But  the  war 
cannot  last  for  ever ;  and  though  I  am  now  a  national- 
ized son  of  France,  I  may  yet  meet  my  father." 

And  Dem  smiled  again. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  have  met  you,"  he  said. 

"  And  I,  Dem,  but  could  have  wished  it  had  been 
under  different  circumstances." 

"  True,  true  !  And  you  saw  old  Miss  McBride  ?  and 
she  is  looking  well.  And  poor  old  superstitious  Tibbie  ? 
And  Granite  and  Foumart  and  Dominie  Reed  ?  " 

<{  All,  Dem ;  and  of  course  they  all  asked  anxiously 
about  you,  but  I  had  nothing  to  say,  nothing  to  tell 
them." 

"No;  but  how  I  should  like  to  be  once  more  in  the 
dear,  bonnie  glen  !  " 

So  the  young  men  sat  and  talked  on  for  fully  an  hour 
about  old  times  and  places. 

While  speaking  thus,  and  thinking  only  about  each 
other,  they  did  not  observe  two  figures  that  crept 
stealthily  along  the  beach  till  only  the  jutting  end  of  a 
rock  divided  them.  Nor  did  they  notice  that  two  faces 
more  than  once  peered  round  that  rock. 

Dem  started  up  at  last. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  must  not  detain  you  longer." 

"  But  I  am  your  prisoner." 


"Amenf  God  Bless  You,  Dem/"       309 

"  I  am  captain  of  my  own  vessel.  Go,  and  do  your 
duty." 

"  Yes/'  said  Willie,  sadly ;  "  I'll  do  my  duty.  I  will 
go  oil  board  my  ship  and  tell  my  captain  all  the  truth." 

"  Do,"  said  Dem  emphatically.  That  is  your  duty,  and 
I  could  not  respect  you  if  you  stepped  aside  from  it  in 
one  iota,  even  were  I  your  brother." 

"  Dem,  you  are  my  brother,  all  I  have  for  one.  And 
now  farewell." 

"  Farewell !  and  may  Heaven  soon  end  this  cruel  war." 

"  Amen  !     God  bless  you,  Dem  !  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

INNOCENT — BUT   PKEPAKED    TO    DIE. 

;  Tire  tempest  comes,  while  meteors  red 

Portentous  fly ; 

And  now  we  touch  old  ocean's  bed, 
And  now  we  reach  the  sky ! 

She  splits,  she  parts,  through  sluices  driven 

The  water  flows ; 
Adieu,  ye  friends  !  have  mercy  Heaven  ! 

Tor  down  she  goes." 

—Dibdin. 

HE  winter's  day  was  wearing  to  a  close 
when  Willie  Grant  and  little  Josh  once 
more  stood  on  the  beach  near  the  village 
on  the  bay.  The  wind  had  gone  down 
and  the  sky  was  clear,  the  sun  sinking  in  a  purple  haze, 
and  just  sufficient  wind  blowing  from  landwards  to  cause 
a  ripple  on  the  water. 

All  the  boats  were  gone  except  that  which  waited  for 
him,  and  somewhat  to  his  surprise  he  noticed  an  unusual 
bustle  on  board.     Sails  were   being  set,  and  the  crew 
were  preparing  to  get  up  the  anchor* 
no 


Innocent— But  Prepared  to  Die.         311 

"  Jump  in,  Josh,  quickly,"  cried  Willie,  a  shadow  fall- 
ing over  his  spirits. 

It  was  the  dark  shadow  of  a  coming  event,  and  though 
he  knew  it  not  then,  Harness,  the  mate,  the  man  who 
had  gone  out  after  him  with  a  murder- wish  in  his  heart, 
had  found  safer  means  to  crush  his  foe. 

"  Shove  off  men.  Bear  a  hand.  We're  evidently 
getting  ready  for  sea." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  coxswain.  "  Mr.  Harness  came 
off  half  an  hour  or  so  agone,  and  brought  word  that  a 
French  privateer  lay  in  the  adjoining  bay  to  here. 

As  soon  as  Willie  got  on  board,  he  hurried  aft  and 
demanded  instant  audience  of  the  captain.  The  captain 
was  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  before  Willie  could  speak 
to  him,  he  sent  the  midshipman  of  the  watch  to  summon 
all  the  wardroom  officers  who  were  not  on  duty. 

As  soon  as  they  arrived, — 

"Now,  Mr.  Harness,"  he  said,  "step  forward." 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  continued,  "  this  is  not  a  drum-head 
court-martial,  though  I  have  the  power  to  make  it  so. 
Call  it  rather  a  drum-head  court  of  inquiry.  I  want  to 
deal  fairly  and  honestly  and  humanely,  but  I  have  my 
duty  to  perform.  Mr.  Harness,  make  your  state- 
ment." 

"  Yes  sir,"  said  the  mate.  "  This  officer's  actions 
to-day  struck  me  as  strange.  He  went  on  shore  accom- 
panied only  by  the  boy  Josh.  He  had  no  gun  with  him 
to  go  shooting,  but  took  his  way  across  the  snow  to  the 
neighbouring  bay,  some  six  miles  off.  I  followed  him 


312  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

out  of  curiosity.  I  took  a  man  with  me  in  case  Mr. 
Grant  might  attack  me,  as  he  has  before  done  (sensation) . 
I  found  lying  in  the  bay  a  French  man-of-war  or 
privateer.  The  captain  came  from  a  hut  and  addressed 
and  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Grant.  Leaving  the  lad  Josh, 
they  went  alone  to  the  extreme  end  of  the  bay,  and  we 
followed  them,  after  making  a  long  detour  to  avoid  being 
seen." 

Harness  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  hesitating  whether 
he  could  commit  the  sin  he  meditated. 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain.  "  You  heard  them 
talking?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"And  concocting  some  plan  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  it  seemed  to  me  like  a — a — a  plot  to — to 
spike  our  guns  or  something." 

"  Anyhow,"  ^said  the  captain,  "to  assist  in  handing 
over  His  Majesty's  ship  Dardanelle  to  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Willie  made  a  step  forward. 

He  was  as  pale  as  death,  and  trembling  like  an  aspen 
leaf. 

"Let  me  explain,  sir.  I  demand  a  hearing.  That 
officer  lies.  He  means  to  swear  my  life  away." 

"  This  before  me !  "  roared  Captain  Harness.  "  I  have 
half  a  mind  to  try  you  now,  sir,  by  drum-head  court- 
martial,  sir.  By  Jove  I  have!  What  say  you,  gentle- 
men?" 

"Do  nothing  rash,"  said  the  first  lieutenant,     "There 


Innocent — But  Prepared  to  Die.          313 

may  be  two  sides  to  tins  story,  dark  as  it  looks  against 
Mr.  Grant." 

"  Thank  you  \"  cried  the  captain.  "  Send  for  a  file  of 
marines,  and  place  Mr.  Grant  in  the  cells;  and  Mr. 
Harness,  you  will  bring  his  sword  to  my  cabin." 

Away  went  poor  Willie  Grant,  with  hanging  head, 
bowed  in  spirit,  and  almost  broken-hearted. 

So  this  it  seemed  was  to  be  the  end  to  all  his  ambition 
— a  few  weeks  in  a  felon's  cell,  then  execution  by  martial 
law. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Harness,"  said  the  captain,  "do  you  con- 
sider the  boy  Josh  implicated  in  the  charge  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  sir,"  returned  the  mate  briskly.  "  The 
boy  is  a  mere  dupe,  and  was  doubtless  taken  with  Mr. 
Grant  as  a  blind.  He  is  little  more  than  a  child,  sir." 

"  Very  well.     Gentlemen,  you  can  now  go." 

Josh  the  boy- — the  child,  as  this  fiend  afloat  called  him 
— was  not  accused.  No,  it  would  not  have  served 
Harness's  purpose  to  have  him  implicated.  He  had 
another  use  for  him. 

By  this  time  the  Dardanelle  was  under  sail,  and  moving 
slowly  out  to  sea,  with  the  intention  of  rounding  the 
headland  and  attacking  the  French  privateer. 

But  as  soon  as  she  was  well  off  the  land,  in  the  dark  of 
the  gathering  night,  that  same  privateer  could  be  seen 
under  all  sail  far  away  down  to  leeward.  Soon  after  she 
was  sighted  a  puff  of  white  smoke  rose  from  her  stern, 
the  sound  of  a  big  gun  came  booming  over  the  water, 
and  a  round  shot  went  ricochetting  past  the  Dardanelle. 


314          In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Willie  Grant  in  his  lonely  cell  heard  the  sound,  and 
knew  the  meaning  of  it  better  than  any  one  on  board. 
The  gun  spoke  to  him. 

"  Ay,"  said  he,  half  aloud.  "  Good-bye,  Dem  !  But 
how  vexed  and  grieved  you  would  be  did  you  know  the 
terrible  position  our  meeting  has  placed  me  in  !  " 

And  the  truth  is,  had  Dem  really  known  what  had 
occurred,  and  were  it  possible  for  his  evidence  to  bo 
taken  against  that  of  the  mate,  he  would  willingly  have 
risked  his  life  to  give  it. 

The  Sang  FroiJ,  for  so  this  French  privateer  was  well 
named,  carried  lights  all  the  night,  as  if  inviting  the 
Dardanelle  to  chase  her;  which  she  did,  but  the  Sang 
Froid  distanced  her  by  many  miles.  The  lights  died 
away  on  the  horizon,  and  she  was  seen  no  longer. 

For  more  than  a  week  the  Dar  dandle  cruised  about 
looking  for  her  insolent  adversary,  then  bore  up  for  the 
St.  Lawrence  river. 

The  doctor  was  the  only  officer  who  was  allowed  to 
visit  poor  Willie  in  his  cell;  but  he  was  very  kind,  saw  to 
his  comfort  in  every  way,  and  used  to  sit  and  talk  with 
him  for  hours. 

Willie  told  him  the  plain,  unvarnished  tale  of  his 
meeting  with  Dem,  his  old  friend,  and  of  Dem's  gene- 
rosity in  setting  him  free  when  he  might  have  kept  him 
prisoner. 

"  I  wish  he  had  kept  you,  Grant." 

"  You  fear  the  worst  then  ?  " 

"  I  do ;  and  if  I  were  you  I  should  be  prepared  for  it. 


Innocent — But  Prepared  to  Die.         315 

We  are  on  our  way  to  Quebec ;  there  you  will  be  tried, 
arid  matters  look  very  black  against  you." 

"  I  ain  innocent/'  said  Willie,  "  but — I  am  prepared 
to  die." 

"  It  is  sad,  so  young.  But  cheer  up,  Grant ;  where 
there  is  life  there  is  hope,  and  I  must  add  that  in  the 
wardroom  we  all  believe  you  innocent  and  believe  the 
mate  to  be  a  villain." 

Harness's  manner  towards  little  Josh  now  underwent 
a  complete  change.  He  was  "  the  child  "  now,  and  put 
to  all  kinds  of  easy  work,  and  Harness  used  to  spend  a 
whole  half-hour  sometimes  chatting  to  him.  But  Josh — • 
the  waif  of  the  wilds — might  have  looked  a  little  soft, 
but  he  certainly  was  no  fool,  he  could  see  as  far  through 
a  stone  as  a  mason,  and  knew  perfectly  well  what 
Harness  meant. 

The  mate  tried  to  cajole  him  first  and  pump  him,  he 
even  put  words  into  the  boy's  mouth,  or  rather  he  tried 
to  ;  but  Josh  was  true  to  his  master  and  true  to  himself. 
Then  Harness  went  away  on  the  other  tack,  and  tried 
threats.  He  told  Josh  that  his  master  would  be  shot, 
and  that  he,  Josh,  would  be  hanged  if  he  did  not  clear 
himself  and  turn  king's  evidence. 

Josh  was  just  as  deaf  to  his  threats  as  he  was  to  hU 
cajolery. 

The  Dardanelle  struggled  on  up  the  gulf,  against  con- 
trary winds,  through  fog  and  gloom  and  ice.  The  island 
of  Anticosti  would,  if  visible,  have  been  bearing  about 
a  nor'-nor'-west  from  them,  when  one  evening,  while  the 


316  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

wind — a  seven-knot  breeze — was  almost  right  ahead,  the 
ship  suddenly  struck  heavily  on  a  rocky  bottom. 

Down  in  his  cell  Willie  knew  what  that  awful  rasping, 
bumping  sound  meant. 

Almost  at  the  same  time  the  wind  began  to  die  down. 

The  sails  were  put  aback,  all  to  no  purpose.  Then  an 
anchor  was  got  out,  and  by  this  means  an  attempt  was 
made  to  heave  her  off.  Had  the  wind  kept  up  she  might 
have  moved ;  as  it  was  she  refused  to  budge. 

There  would  be  no  moon  to-night,  and  although  by- 
and-by  the  fog  lifted  and  stars  were  seen,  it  was  dark 
enough  nevertheless. 

The  captain  stamped  up  and  down  the  quarter-deck 
more  like  a  caged  wild  beast  than  anything  else.  He 
blamed  everybody,  and  swore  at  all  in  turn. 

Meanwhile,  as  the  night  wore  on,  the  rasping  and 
bumping  continued,  as  the  ship  went  farther  and  farther 
on  to  the  rocks  with  a  rising  tide,  for  the  anchor  seemed 
to  slip  along  the  smooth,  rocky  bottom. 

Then  the  ominous  wind  began  to  rise  and  moan  through 
the  rigging.  Sails  were  taken  in,  for  it  blew  from  the 
south-east,  and  speedily  increased  to  the  force  of  half  a 
gale. 

That  nothing  could  save  the  good  ship  now  was  soon 
evident  to  all  on  board.  The  waves  began  to  thunder 
against  her  sides,  to  lift  her,  and  to  dash  her  on  and  on, 
and  still  farther  on,  towards  two  parallel  lines  that  stood 
out  on  the  dim  horizon  :  one  was  white,  and  represented 
the  breaking  of  the  waves  on  the  beach ;  the  other  was 


Innocent — But  Prepared  to  Die.          317 

black, — the  coast  line  itself,  covered  with  trees  and 
shrubs. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  Could  boats  live  in  that  sea  ? 
It  was  indeed  doubtful,  but  an  effort  must  be  made  at  all 
events. 

So  the  boats  were  called  away. 

Discipline  had  been  maintained  up  till  now,  but  as 
soon  as  the  boats  were  lowered,  I  am  sorry  to  have  to 
relate  that  the  cry  was  "  Every  one  for  himself  !  "  • 

In  the  rush  overboard  and  into  the  boats  several  were 
smashed  to  flinders,  and  scores  were  thus  drowned. 

High  over  the  howling  wind,  the  thundering  of  the 
keel  on  the  rocks,  and  the  smashing  noise  of  timber?, 
Willie  in  his  lonesome  cell  could  hear  alongside  the 
bubbling  cry  and  death-shriek  of  drowning  men. 

Why,  it  may  be  asked,  could  not  discipline  have  been 
maintained?  The  answer  is  a  sadly  simple  one.  The 
Dardanclle  was  manned  anyhow,  manned  in  a  hurry,  with 
merchant  sailors  for  the  most  part,  men  who  had  never 
heard  a  shot  fired  in  anger  j  and  all  because  the  Admi- 
ralty thought  "  anything  was  good  enough  to  crush  so 
small  a  maritime  power  as  America." 

Many  boats  got  clear  away,  however,  and  landed  their 
occupants ;  then  by  some  officer  in  charge  a  call  would 
be  made  for  volunteers,  and  back  through  breakers  and 
surf  they  boldly  rowed,  and  thus  at  least  one  half  the 
officers  and  crew  were  finally  landed.  But  the  scene  on 
board  when  the  spirit  room  was  broken  into  is  beyond 
my  power  to  describe. 


318  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

To  add  to  the  horrors  of  this  awful  night  the  ship  took 
fire,  and  scores  of  poor  drunken  wretches  perished  in  the 
flames. 

And  what  about  our  hero  ?  Alas  !  his  good  friend,  the 
doctor  was  washed  off  the  fo'c's'le  early  in  the  night, 
and  Willie  was forgotten  ! 

To  die  like  a  rat  in  a  trap,  to  be  drowned  in  a  cell, 
was  a  terrible  fate.  But  he  prepared  to  meet  his 
doom. 

He  was  on  his  knees  praying,  when  suddenly  a  series 
of  smashing  blows  was  heard  on  his  door,  and  in  a 
minute  it  was  broken  in.  There  stood  Josh,  axe  in 
hand. 

"  Come  on,  master,  come  on  !  "  he  cried.  "  They  have 
all  gone  away ;  there  is  no  one  left  alive  in  the  ship  but 
you  and  me.  But  I  have  dragged  the  dingey  forward 
out  of  the  fire,  and  I  think  we  may  manage  to  lower 
her.  Come  on.  Thank  God  you  are  saved  !  " 

Josh — the  waif  of  the  wilds — seemed  a  boy  no  longer, 
but  a  man — and  a  hero.  Hand  in  hand,  as  if  brothers, 
went  Josh  and  Willie  on  deck. 

The  wind  seemed  already  to  have  abated  somewhat 
of  its  fury,  and  the  grey  dawn  was  beginning  to  creep 
upwards  in  the  east. 

The  stern  of  the  vessel  was  sheeted  in  flames,  the  smoke 
and  sparks  of  which  rolled  fiercely  over  the  sea  laud- 
wards. 

A  battle  was  going  on  betwixt  the  two  dread  elements 


Innocent — But  Prepared  to  Die.          319 

— good  servants  both,  but  terrible  masters ! — fire  and 
water. 

Willie  stood  for  a  moment  near  the  fo'c's'le,  and  gazed 
around  him.  It  was  a  terrible  sight,  this  half-dismantled 
ship,  with  her  masts  gone,  the  foaming  seas,  the  steam, 
the  smoke  and  flames  and  sparks. 

But  Willie  took  a  sailor's  view  of  the  situation.  The 
fire  could  not  reach  the  magazine  for  some  time  to  come 
yet,  for  the  powder  was  kept  below  forward,  and  so,  as 
the  wind  was  lessening  every  minute,  he  determined  to 
stick  to  the  wreck  for  a  time. 

The  vessel  had  heeled  over  to  one  side,  that  farthest 
from  the  breaking  seas,  and  Willie  and  his  little  mate 
managed  to  drag  the  boat — a  very  small  one — forward. 
They  made  her  fast  by  the  stern  to  the  winch.  She  now 
lay  on  an  incline,  with  her  bows  pointing  downwards 
towards  the  bul \vark. 

"  Now  the  axe,  Josh  !  "  cried  Willie  Grant. 

Josh  handed  it  to  him,  and  he  immediately  commenced 
hacking  down  the  bulwarks  in  front  of  the  boat.  The 
boy  slipped  below,  and  presently  staggered  back  with 
a  big  saw;  so  that,  working  like  galley  slaves,  they 
succeeded  in  clearing  away  the  bulwarks  in  a  short 
time. 

They  were  now  in  a  position  to  launch  the  dingey 
clear  off  the  deck,  by  merely  cutting  the  rope  astern  of 
her,  and  permitting  her  to  glide  downwards  into  the  sea. 

Day  dawned  at  last,  and  the  wind  went  down,  but  still 


320  In  the  Dashing  frays  of  Old. 

the  battle  'twixt  fire  and  sea  was  raging  on,  the  fire,  how- 
ever, now  creeping  farther  forward  as  the  seas  became 
less  violent. 

The  shore  about  a  mile  distant,  a  long,  low,  wooded 
coast,  with  a  fringe  of  foaming  breakers. 

As  the  wind  went  down  the  fog  descended  or  crept 
seawards  from  the  island,  and  soon  the  shore  was  no 
longer  visible. 

The  fire  now  began  to  creep  uncomfortably  near,  so 
preparations  were  made  for  a  start.  The  binacle  com- 
pass was  got  out  and  placed  in  the  boat,  and  food  and 
water,  blankets,  guns  and  ammunition,  etc.  Then  both 
jumped  in  and,  watching  a  chance,  cut  the  rope  and 
slipped  quietly  away  into  the  sea  on  the  bosom  of  a 
big,  unbroken  wave. 

"  Shall  we  pull  right  in,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,  Josh,  no ;  the  little  boat  would  be  smashed  to 
atoms  among  the  breakers.  Besides,  my  friend,  life  is 
sweet — to  an  innocent  man." 

They  headed  the  boat  partially  seawards  therefore ; 
and  though  for  a  time  they  made  but  little  way,  they 
managed  to  keep  well  off  the  shore,  and  by-and-by  they 
were  enabled  to  hoist  a  small  sail  and  skirt  along  the 
coast,  Willie  being  determined  to  put  as  many  miles  as 
possible  betwixt  himself  and  his  friends  on  shore. 

About  noon  they  landed  in  a  little  cove,  and  dined. 
The  fog  had  once  more  disappeared,  and  the  wind  held, 
but  it  was  bitterly  cold. 

In  an  hour's  time  they  once  more  embarked.     The 


Innocent — But  Prepared  to  Die.          321 

sail  was  hoisted,  and  away  they  went,  keeping  well  out  to 
sea,  in  order  to  avoid  increasing  their  sailing  distance  by 
having  to  round  the  headlands. 

"  How  will  it  all  end?"  said  Willie  to  his  friend,  as 
they  landed  at  sunset  and  drew  up  their  boat. 

' '  Ah,  never  fear  !  "  replied  Josh.  "  Besides,  I'm  happy 
now,  and  I  know  you  are  hopeful." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE    CKUSOES    OP   ANTICOSTI. 

Is  lowly  dale,  fast  by  a  river's  side, 

With  woody  hill  on  hill  encompassed  round; 

Where  blackening  trees,  aye  waving  to  and  fro, 
Sent  forth  a  sleepy  horror  through  the  blood." 

— Thomson. 

LFDDLED  together  for  warmth  in  a  cave 
among  the  rocks  on  the  shore,  Willie  and 
Josh  slept  soundly  till  far  into  next  day. 

Into  this  cave  they  had  carried  all  their 
provisions,  and  it  was  well  they  did  so,  for  there  was 
evidence  enough  that  bears  had  been  prowling  round 
during  the  night. 

So  numerous  were  these  brutes  on  this  island  in  the 
year  1814,  when  my  grandfather,  who  lived  three  weeks 
here, — having  been  shipwrecked, — that  fires  had  to  be 
kept  up  all  night  to  prevent  them  from  attacking  the 
camp. 

My  own  personal  experience  has  been  chiefly  among 
the  Arctic  bears,  but  although  but  few  accidents  occur 
now,  even  beyond  the  rocky  mountains,  old  hunters  used 


The  Crusoes  of  Anticosti.  323 

to  relate — and  there  was  every  reason  to  believe  them — 
tales  of  terrible  encounters  with  these  monsters. 

Next  to  the  polar  bear,  probably  the  most  ferocious 
and  difficult  to  deal  with  is  the  brown  bear,  or  Ursiis 
Ardos.  He  is  a  native  now  principally  in  the  wilder 
mountainous  regions  of  Europe  and  Asia.  In  a  book 
by  Mr.  T.  C.  Atkinson,  called  "Oriental  and  Western 
Siberia,"  the  following  graphic  account  is  given  of  an 
adventure  with  one  of  these  animals  : — 

"  Two  men,  one  of  whom  was  an  experienced  hunter, 
had  succeeded  in  surprising  a  bear.  The  hunter  fired, 
and  the  ball  struck,  though  not  in  a  vital  part.  In  an 
instant  the  wounded  animal  charged.  The  other  man, 
less  accustomed  to  the  chase,  reserved  his  fire  till  within 
twenty  yards  of  his  assailant.  Unfortunately  his  rifle 
missed.  The  brute  immediately  raised  himself  on  his 
hind  legs,  and,  tearing  the  earth  beneath  him,  rushed  on 
his  first  assailant,  striking  him  down  with  a  blow  that 
stripped  his  scalp  and  turned  it  down  over  his  face. 
Then  seizing  his  arm,  he  began  to  gnaw  and  crush  it  to 
the  bone,  gradually  ascending  to  the  shoulder. 

"In  this  strait  the  man  called  to  his  companion  to 
load  and  fire ;  but  he,  when  he  saw  his  friend  so  fearfully 
mangled,  flew  in  a  panic  of  terror,  and  abandoned  him  to 
his  fate. 

"  Late  in  the  evening  he  reached  a  neighbouring  gold 
mine,  and  reported  what  had  occurred ;  but  it  was  too 
late  to  attempt  any  effort  on  behalf  of  the  unfortunate 
hunter. 


324  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  At  daylight  on  the  following  morning,  the  officer  in 
charge  of  the  station  ordered  out  a  large  and  well-armed 
party,  with  the  coward  for  their  guide.  He  led  them 
through  the  shades  of  the  forest  to  the  spot  where  the 
encounter  had  taken  place,  but  of  the  victim  no  remains 
were  visible,  except  some  torn  clothing  and  his  rifle. 
From  the  marks  on  the  grass  it  was  evident  that  the 
man  had  been  carried  off  into  the  recesses  of  the  forest. 
A  careful  search  was  therefore  made,  and  at  length  the 
den  of  the  bear  was  discovered.  He  had  dragged  the 
hunter  into  a  thick  covert  of  wood  and  bushes,  and  to 
render  his  asylum  still  more  secure,  had  broken  off  a 
quantity  of  bushes  and  piled  them  over  his  victim's  body. 
These  were  quickly  stripped  off,  and  to  the  surprise  and 
joy  of  all,  the  hunter,  though  frightfully  mutilated  and 
quite  insensible,  was  still  living. 

"The  march  back  was  conducted  as  quickly  as  possible. 
The  man  was  put  in  a  hospital  and  his  wounds  dressed. 
Notwithstanding  all  he  had  undergone,  he  survived;  and 
as  soon  as  his  strength  was  re-established,  he  started  in 
pursuit  of  his  ursine  enemy,  tracked  him  to  his  retreat 
and  killed  him." 


But  Willie  and  Josh  soon  found  that,  though  only 
black  bears  (Ursus  Americanns) ,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
woods  here  were  likely  to  give  them  trouble  enough. 

Perhaps  they  did  not  see  strangers  very  often,  and 
wanted  to  make  the  best  of  these;  besides  they  were 


The  Crusoes  of  Anticosti.  325 

lean  and  gaunt  and  hungry,  having  only  just  awakened 
from  their  long  winter's  sleep. 

Our  Crusoes  now  set  about  making  themselves  as 
comfortable  as  circumstances  would  permit.  There  was 
little  fear  of  any  of  their  late  shipmates  discovering  their 
whereabouts ;  they  must  be  ninety  miles  away  at  least, 
and  the  only  other  inhabitants  of  this  inhospitable  island 
were  bears  and  wolves. 

They  determined  to  make  the  cave  their  home.  It 
was  large  and  dry,  besides  it  was  near  to  the  beach,  and 
a  passing  ship  would  surely  see  the  smoke  or  blaze  of 
their  fire  ere  long. 

They  had  saved  enough  biscuits  to  last  them,  with 
economy,  for  fully  two  months  ;  then  they  had  salt  pork 
and  meat ;  for  further  provender  they  must  depend  upon 
their  guns. 

In  the  utmost  recess  of  the  cave  they  stowed  away 
their  biscuits  and  meat,  and  their  very  first  effort  at  self- 
preservation  was  to  construct  a  gate  to  the  cave.  This 
they  did  from  trees,  which  their  axes  enabled  them  to 
hew  down,  binding  them  together  with  the  twisted 
withes  of  a  sort  of  willow  that  grew  plentifully  near  the 
marsh  lands. 

In  a  few  days  the  weather  underwent  a  surprising 
change:  first  came  foggy  rains,  and  the  snow  melted; 
streams  that  were  but  trickling  rills  before  being  now 
swollen  to  roaring  burns.  But  these  got  less  and  less, 
and  trees  began  to  bud  and  flowers  to  spring  up  among 
the  green  grass  and  moss,  and  on  the  cliff  tops  sea-birds 


326  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

became  more  abundant,  and  the  songs  of  lovely  land 
birds  were  heard  in  the  woods. 

They  found  a  kind  of  peat  moss  bog  not  far  off,  and 
spent  a  whole  day  cutting  turf,  which  they  carried  down 
to  the  beach  and  dried  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  rocks. 
When  fairly  dry  it  was  stowed  in  a  corner  of  the  cave, 
and  proved,  with  the  addition  of  wood,  excellent  firing, 
having  this  additional  advantage  that  it  kept  smouldering 
all  night. 

Only  once  during  a  whole  fortnight  did  they  see  a 
passing  vessel.  But  of  what  nationality  they  could  not 
make  out.  At  all  events  their  smoke  signals  were 
unobserved.  The  ship  sailed  on  and  made  no  sign. 

Willie  and  Josh  spent  a  deal  of  their  time  fishing. 
Their  method  was  what  is  called  "guddling"  in  Scot- 
land.  The  water  in  the  smaller  streams  or  burns  was 
dammed  with  turf,  leaving  the  lower  parts  practically 
dry;  then  by  wading  therein  and  using  the  hands  the 
fish  could  be  landed  as  fast  as  could  be  desired. 

There  was  indeed  no  want  of  trout,  every  rivulet 
teemed  with  them  j  so  that  portion  of  their  bill  of  fare, 
called  in  polite  language  poisson,  was  abundant  enough. 

There  was  plenty  of  game  on  this  part  of  the  island ; 
cur  crusoes  did  not  forget  that  it  was  the  season  of 
spring,  however,  and  only  killed  but  barely  enough  to 
supply  their  daily  wants. 

As  they  were  entirely  without  utensils  of  any  kind, 
cooking  was  accomplished  with  some  difficulty,  and  only 
by  fire.  They  adopted  the  plan  they  had  seen  followed 


The  Crusoes  of  Anticosti.  327 

by  some  tribes  of  savages  on  the  African  coast,  building 
a  kind  of  wooden  tripod  over  the  fire,  with  bars  across 
the  three  sides  ladder-fashion;  on  these  steps,  as  we  may 
call  them,  the  fish  or  game  was  spread,  and  in  due  time 
most  tenderly  cooked. 

The  want  of  salt  was  a  grievance  at  first,  but  one  which 
was  speedily  overcome;  sea- water  spread  in  clear  shallow 
places  on  the  rocks  soon  evaporated  in  the  sun.  More 
and  more  water  was  added,  and  when  all  had  finally 
dried  off,  there  was  an  incrustation  of  salt  found  which 
answered  every  useful  purpose. 

Many  esculent  herbs  and  roots  even  were  found, 
which  added  considerably  to  the  larder,  and  saved 
biscuits. 

Several  excursions  into  the  interior  were  made,  and 
they  found  that  a  march  of  even  half  a  day  took  them 
into  a  country  that  was  charming  in  its  very  primitive 
wildness :  hill  and  dell,  rock  and  wild  wood,  lakes  and 
torrents,  that  in  some  places  put  them  in  mind  of  the 
scenery  of  the  land  of  their  birth. 

Not  unattended  with  danger,  however,  were  these 
little  trips ;  for  these  wilderies,  lovely  and  all  as  they 
were  with  their  wealth  of  flowers,  bush,  and  ferns,  were 
inhabited  by  wolves  and  bears,  whose  very  unsophisti- 
catedness,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  made  them  dangerous. 

It  was  pretty  evident  they  had  never  seen  any  human 
beings  before,  and  their  curiosity  to  know  a  little  more 
about  Willie  and  Josh  knew  no  bounds.  I  suppose, 
among  themselves,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  speculation 


328  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

as  to  what  our  heroes  really  were,  and  where  they  had 
come  from.  Several  groups  of  bears  were  seen  one  day 
in  different  places  on  the  hill  sides  and  in  the  marshes, 
asquat  on  the  grass,  or  standing  up  leaning  against 
rocks,  evidently  in  serious  debate. 

The  burning  questions  appeared  to  be : — 

I.  What  were  those  two  curious  creatures,  with  bare 
white  faces,  that  walked  upon  one  end  and  carried  poles 
in  their  paws  ? 

II.  Did  they  drop  out  of  the  clouds,  or  creep  up  out 
of  the  sea  ? 

III.  What  did  they  taste  like  ? 

On  this  particular  day  these  interesting  and  hirsute 
savages  were  evidently  determined  to  set  the  last  of  these 
questions  at  rest  for  ever,  and  to  find  out  the  flavour  of 
Willie's  and  Josh's  blood. 

The  two  crusoes  had  wandered  farther  than  ever  from 
the  camp.  They  had  been  following  the  banks  of  a 
stream,  but  having  left  it  to  make  a  short  detour,  they 
lost  it,  and  after  wandering  about  in  an  aimless  kind  of 
way,  made  up  their  minds  to  bivouac  for  the  night  in 
the  open. 

Josh  gathered  fuel,  there  being  no  end  of  dead  wood 
about;  and  with  a  flint  and  steel  Willie  ignited  some 
gunpowder  and  dry  grass,  and  soon  they  had  a  splendid 
blaze.  They  laid  three  fires  in  all,  and  secured  wood 
enough  to  last  all  night;  then,  rolled  in  their  blankets, 
down  they  lay  and  proceeded  to  enjoy  their  supper. 

By-and-by  the  stars  came  out,  and  a  big  round  moon 


The  Crusoes  of  Anticosti.  329 

rose  shedding  so  soft  and  mellow  a  light  over  all  the 
scene,  that  they  might  almost  have  imagined  themselves 
at  home. 

It  was  about  home  they  talked. 

"If  we  had  no  home,  though,"  said  little  Josh,  "and 
no  bonnie  Scotland  to  long  for,  it  is  just  in  a  place  like 
this  I  should  like  to  live ;  always  with  you,  Mr.  Willie 
Grant — always  with  you." 

Suddenly  there  was  a  coughing  roar  not  ten  yards 
away.  Willie  sprang  through  the  smoke  and  succeeded 
in  rolling  over  an  immense  bear.  Then  between  the  two 
of  them  they  managed  to  drag  the  body  some  thirty 
yards  away. 

But  it  was  evident  there  would  be  little  peace  for 
them  for  one  night,  for  not  only  bears  but  wolves  soon 
surrounded  the  carcase,  and  the  growling,  howling, 
fighting,  and  squalling  they  kept  up  fairly  banished  all 
ideas  of  sleep. 

They  kept  the  fires  burning  well,  and  thus  succeeded 
in  preventing  the  brutes  from  charging  on  them  and 
finding  out  how  they  tasted. 

Willie  several  times  fired  into  the  midst  of  them,  but 
this  only  made  matters  worse. 

It  was  nearly  morning  before  these  wild  beasts  sought 
their  dens  and  jungles  and  peace  was  restored. 

Then  both  our  crusoes  lay  down  once  more.  Josh  was 
soon  sound  asleep,  but  poor  Willie  sat  thinking — think- 
ing, on  how  all  this  would  end.  Had  he  done  wrong,  or 
had  there  been  ever  a  doubt  about  the  matter  in  his  mind, 


330  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

he  would  have  given  himself  up  to  the  shipwrecked 
officers  of  the  Dardanelle,  and  willingly  have  faced  the 
death  which  would  have  been  but  his  just  guerdon.  But 
he  had  done  no  wrong,  and  why  should  he  throw  his 
young  life  away  ? 

But  what  was  his  future  life  to  be  ?  Home  he  never 
again  could  return  ;  he  must  be  a  wanderer,  an  outcast  in 
a  foreign  land.  What !  never  to  see  his  father  again, 
never  again  to  see  the  purple  heather  and  yellow  broom 
that  bloomed  and  blossomed  on  his  native  hills  ?  Oh  ! 
this  was  too  dreadful.  Surely  death  itself  were  to  be 
preferred  to  so  weary  a  life.  Was  there  no  hope? 
Must  it  be  death  or  perpetual  exile?  He  could  not 
answer  the  questions,  he  could  not  solve  the  problem. 
He  lay  back  on  the  grass  with  his  head  resting  on  his 
arm.  One  thing  he  could  do.  He  could  take  his  sorrows 
to  the  throne  of  mercy  and  grace. 

Ah !  there  was  One  on  high,  a  Friend  in  heaven,  who 
loved  him  better  than  a  brother,  who  had  guarded  and 
guided  him  all  his  life  till  now,  and  would  not  now  for- 
sake him. 

Musing  thus,  and  while  the  moon  was  declining  in  the 
west,  and  while  eastern  stars  were  beginning  to  pale 
before  the  first  faint  dawn  of  morning,  Willie  fell 
asleep. 

He  was  dreaming  though.  He  was  back  again  in 
General  Rutherford's  tent,  telling  his  sad  story  to  blue- 
eyed  little  Etheldine,  and  she  was  smiling  through  her 
tears  and  whispering  to  him. 


The  Crusoes  of  Anticosti.  331 

"  All  will  yet  be  well ;  I  will  pray  for  that." 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  he  awoke  from  the  deep, 
sound  sleep  into  which  that  happy  dream  seemed  to  have 
plunged  him. 

Broad  daylight,  and  Josh  was  laying  out  the  remains 
of  last  night's  supper  for  breakfast. 

"I  didn't  like  to  wake  you/'  he  said.  "You  did 
appear  to  be  so  fast  and  sound." 

After  breakfast  they  left  their  temporary  camp,  and 
made  the  best  of  their  way  in  the  direction  in  which  they 
knew  the  river  lay. 

They  found  it ;  but  they  found  also  the  denizens  of  the 
woods  did  not  mean  them  to  retire  towards  the  beach 
without  a  sufficient  escort. 

If  there  was  one  gaunt  and  glaring  wolf  on  their  tracks 
now,  there  must  have  been  half  a  score.  On  they  came 
after  the  crusoes,  growling  and  menacing.  If  the  young 
men  stood  the  wolves  stopped,  if  they  made  a  step  or 
two  backwards  the  monsters  turned  and  fled,  snarling, 
biting,  and  tumbling  over  each  other. 

They  hurried  on  and  on  with  these  wild  beasts  in  the 
rear  and  not  far  off,  never  knowing  the  moment  they 
would  be  attacked.  They  still  had  about  ten  rounds  of 
ammunition  left  each ;  so  every  now  and  then,  when  the 
wolves  pressed  closer  and  looked  more  threatening,  they 
fired  into  their  midst,  then  ran  on,  and  the  living  wolves 
stayed  behind  to  tear  the  dead  or  wounded  limb  from 
limb. 

One  last  volley  they  gave  them  as  soon  as  they  came  in 


332  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

sight  of  the  sea,  and  were  safe  in  the  cave  before  the 
brutes  again  attempted  to  attack  them. 

But  after  this  they  went  no  more  into  the  interior ;  and 
so  aggressive  did  both  wolves  and  bears  become,  that  one 
of  the  crusoes  had  to  stand  on  guard  when  the  other  was 
gathering  wood  or  fishing. 

Two  whole  months  were  passed  in  this  way.  Their 
biscuits  began  to  give  out,  and  also  their  ammunition ; 
and  danger  seemed  in  store  for  them,  if  not  death,  by 
starvation  or  at  the  fangs  of  those  fierce  and  hungry 
wolves. 

One  day,  however,  while  Willie  was  doing  something 
in  the  cave,  and  feeling  very  sad  and  lonely,  Josh  came 
rushing  in  mad  with  excitement. 

"  A  sail  in  sight !  "  he  shouted ;   "  a  sail !  a  sail !  " 

Willie  too  was  excited  now. 

Whether  foreign  or  British,  he  determined  to  do  the 
best  he  could  to  attract  attention. 

"  Heap  more  wood  on  the  signal  fire,"  he  cried,  "  and 
fetch  those  green  boughs.  Quick,  Josh,  quick  !  " 

Josh  needed  no  second  telling,  and  soon  dense  columns 
of  white  smoke  rolled  up  and  were  wafted  away  over  the 
woods  on  the  wings  of  a  January  breeze.  The  sail  came 
nearer  and  nearer  for  a  long  time,  then  went  round  and 
away  on  the  other  tack,  and  Willie's  spirits  fell  to 
zero. 

"  But  look  ! "  exclaimed  Josh,  "  they  are  coming  round 
again  j  they  see  us,  they  see  us.  We  are  saved  ! 
Hurrah  ! " 


The  Crusoes  of  Anticosti.  333 

Yes,  the  smoke  had  been  seen  on  board,  and  the  vessel 
bore  rapidly  down  towards  the  island.  When  within  a 
mile,  she  mast  have  been  in  shoal  water,  for  an  anchor 
was  dropped  and  a  boat  lowered. 

Willie  soon  discovered  they  were  French  sailors ;  then 
his  heart  began  to  beat  faster  and  faster,  for  seated  in  the 
stern  sheets  was  Dem. 

And  with  him  was  Poodah  ! 

The  meeting  was  indeed  a  joyous  one. 

Dem  was  so  brimful  of  animal  spirits,  that  he  must 
laugh  aloud  with  very  joy  as  he  pressed  Willie's 
hand. 

"  I  heard  of  your  mishap,"  he  said,  "  and  sent  on  a 
relief  ship  to  your  shipwrecked  messmates." 

"  Poor  fellows  !  though,"  he  added,  looking  serious ; 
"  nearly  two-thirds  are  dead." 

"  Drowned  ?  " 

"  No  ;  there  was  a  mutiny  on  shore,  the  rabble  portion 
of  the  cut-throat  crew  rose  on  the  others,  and  after  a 
terrible  fight  marched  off  with  all  the  provisions  to  the 
woods.  Only  two  of  your  officers  are  saved,  the  mate 
and  a  midshipman." 

"  Thank  God,"  said  Willie,  "the  mate  is  saved." 

"  It  was  an  American  frigate  I  thoughtfully  sent  to  the 
rescue,"  said  Dem,  laughing  again ;  "  so  your  mate,  Hornet 
I  think  they  call  him,  and  the  middy  will  have  to  languish 
in  a  Yankee  prison  till  the  war  is  over.  Hornet  told  me 
you  were  drowned." 

"  Did  this— Hornet  tell  you  nothing  else  ?  " 


334  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  No." 

"Well,  I  will." 

"But  come  on  board  first.  You  are  surely  tired  of 
this  island.  Nothing  to  eat,  I  suppose,  on  it." 

"  Nothing  very  nice  ;   only  bears  and  wolves." 

"Heigho!"  said  Willie,  that  same  evening,  as  Dein 
and  he  sat  smoking  in  the  after-cabin  of  the  Sang  Froid, 
"  who  would  have  thought  we  would  meet  again  so  soon  ? 
Nelson  never  spoke  truer  words  than  these,  '  Nothing  is 
improbable  at  sea/  And  so,"  he  added,  "you  are  off 
again  to  the  coast  of  France  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  off;  and  as  you  will  not  make  up  your  mind 
to  become  my  prisoner,  and  let  me  conduct  you  to  Paris^ 
I  will  find  you  mufti,  and  your  boy  as  well,  and  put  you 
on  board  the  first  British  merchant  craft  we  meet  bound 
for  Quebec." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Willie,  "  and  I  shall  begin  life  anew, 
not  altogether  without  the  hope,  dear  Dem,  of  meeting 
you  again  under  happier  auspices." 

"  And  Poodah,"  he  added,  changing  the  subject. — 
"  Poodah,  you  say,  found  you  in  New  York  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  faithful  fellow ;  he  found  me  at  last,  after 
hunting  for  me  for  well-nigh  four  long  years.  He  says 
he  has  a  story  to  tell  us  one  of  these  days,  Willie,  but 
will  not  do  so  until  the  war  is  over.  Poodah  was  always, 
you  know,  the  man  with  a  mystery.  Ha !  ha  !  ha  !  I  laugh 
when  I  remember  that  first  scene  at  poor  Miss  McBride's 
cottage  on  the  evening  of  Poodah's  first  arrival  at  Glen- 


The  Crusoes  of  Anticosti.  335 

gair.    'A  man  witli  a  mystery  of  all  things  ! '  said  the  old 
lady." 

Willie  joined  in  the  laugh,  and  so  the  evening  sped 
merrily  away. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FIGHTING   IN    CANADA. 

"  WHAT  art  them,  fascinating  war, 

Thou  trophied,  painted  pest, 
That  thus  men  seek  and  yet  abhor, 

Pursue  and  yet  detest  ? 
When  to  the  charge  the  legions  fly, 

And  trumpets  cleave  the  air, 
Thy  fate  demands  the  gen'rous  sigh, 
And  mine  the  pitying  tear." 

— Dibdin. 

T  was  in  the  rosy  month  of  June — as  poets 
call  it — in  the  year  1812,  that  our  cousins 
across  the  Atlantic  declared  war  on  their 
grandfather's  country,  I  need  place  the 
relationship  no  nearer.  The  Government  was  driven 
into  doing  so  by  the  noisy  democracy  of  the  country, 
though  it  was  a  pity  for  America  she  was  not  better 
prepared.  Some  would  call  these  democrats  plucky. 
So  they  were ;  and  albeit  discretion  is  the  better  part 
of  valour,  one  always  does  admire  courage,  and  it  is 
wonderful  what  this  virtue  can  accomplish. 

Says     Allison  :     "  The     gallant     and     extraordinary 


Fighting  in  Canada.  337 

achievements  during  the  contest,  both  of  the  American 
army  and  navy,  are  worthy  of  consideration,  as  demon- 
strating how  far  individual  energy  and  valour  can  over- 
come the  most  serious  difficulties,  and  the  tendencies  of 
democratic  institutions  to  compensate  by  the  vigour  they 
communicate  to  the  people,  the  consequences  of  the 
debility  and  want  of  foresight  which  they  imprint  upon 
the  government." 

I  will  give  an  example  or  two  of  this  kind  of  dashing 
courage,  in  far  simpler  English  than  that  which  Allison 
couches  his  ideas  in. 

I  saw  a  bantam,  then,  the  other  day  declare  war 
against  a  Cochin  China  cock. 

The  bantam  first  and  foremost  mounted  the  fence, 
which  divided  the  two  fields  where  the  rivals  were  wont 
to  wander  and  pick  up  their  crumbs.  Once  on  top  of 
the  fence  the  bantam  crew ;  but  whether  to  keep  his 
own  courage  up,  or  strike  terror  into  the  soul  of  the 
Cochin,  I  cannot  tell.  He  then  sprang  nimbly  into  the 
Cochin's  field.  The  Rubicon  was  crossed.  It  must  be 
death  or  victory.  There  was  no  going  back. 

It  was  like  David  going  forth  to  meet  Goliath ;  but 
the  result  astonished  me,  for  in  five  minutes'  time  the 
monster  cock  was  running  for  his  life,  and  never  halted 
till  he  got  into  his  own  barn-yard.  Then  the  bantam 
remounted  the  fence,  and  crew  again.  No  wonder  ! 

Here  is  a  little  jeu  d' esprit  I  composed  and  recited  at 
a  penny-reading  the  other  evening.  I  would  not  insert 
it  here  if  I  could  not  at  the  same  time  assure  my  readers 

Y 


338  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

that  the  story  is  founded  on  fact,  and  that  the  principal 
event  actually  occurred  under  my  own  eyes.  But  our 
Volunteers — whom  I  very  highly  respect  and  believe  in 
— are,  I  am  sure,  far  too  fond  of  a  bit  of  chaff  to  take 
offence  at  a  trifle  like  that  which  follows,  and  which  I 
call— 

A  LAY  OF  MAES. 

THE  great  review  at  length  was  done, 
A  battle  (sham)  was  lost  and  Avon, 
And  slow  went  down  the  autumn  sun. 
The  troops  had  all  to  town  retired, 
Warworn  and  weary,  hipped  and  tired. 
But  one  brave  man  had  stayed  behind, 
French  leave  he'd  taken — never  mind. 
Arrayed  in  unif  ormal  glory, 
"With  head  erect,  and  thoughts  full  gory, 
He  walked  about,  and  up  and  down, 
Through  every  street  in  Portsmouth  town. 
And  as  he  passed  along  each  stree   : 
Ah  !  many  a  maiden,  young  and  sweet, 
Peered  after  him  with  wistful  eye, 
Then  blushed  a  blush,  and  sighed  a  sigh ; 
And  many  a  male,  with  envious  glance, 
Wished  the  bold  fellow  off  to  France. 

But  little  recked  the  soldier  boy — 

His  mind  had,  by  far,  a  wilder  employ  ; 

To  his  thoughts  by  day,  to  his  dreams  at  night, 

Came  many  a  brave,  but  terrible  sight — 

Of  fights  on  many  a  foreign  strand  ; 

Of  battles  at  sea,  and  sieges  on  land ; 

Of  gallant  deeds  dared  and  victories  won  ; 

Of  war  clouds  grey,  obscuring  the  sun ; 


Fighting  in  Canada.  339 

Of  forlorn-hopes  led,  and  garments  gory ; 
And  his  name  handed  down  in  his  country's  story ; 
The  Victoria  Cross  gained,  and  a  monument  brave, 
And  the  moon  shining  down  on  a  warrior's  grave. 

Ah !  little  thought  this  Volunteer 
That  danger  was  at  all  so  near  ; 
Or  that  so  soon  in  battle's  strife 
He'd  have  to  risk  his  precious  life. 

There  was  a  hen — 

"  A  hen  P  "  you  cry, 
"  A  lien,  most  certainly,"  I  reply — 
She  was  a  hen  of  breed  and  fame, 
Her  sire  from  Brahma-Pootra  came. 
This  hen  essayed  to  cross  the  street, 
With  twice  ten  chickens  at  her  feet ; 
For  which  she  gently  was  tick-tucking, 
For  need  I  say,  this  hen  was  clucking. 

The  feathered  flock  our  soldier,  spying, 
Eushed  instant  forward,  boldly  crying, 
"  Thus  would  I  vanquish  every  foe, 
And  scatter  to  the  winds— Hullo  !  " 
"  Hullo  !  "  indeed  he  well  might  say, 
The  chickens  fled— their  mother— nay ! 
With  sudden  dash  and  wild  skirrew  ! 
Full  bang  into  his  face  she  flew. 

The  charge  in  vain  his  courage  stayed, 
Discreet,  though  brave,  he  turned  and  fled ; 
While  she  pursued  with  hottest  haste, 
And  down  the  street  the  foeman  chased, 
Not  by  the  hen — I'm  proud  to  tell, 
But  by  his  own  good  sword  he  fell ; 
It  got  entangled  'tween  his  feet, 
And  brought  the  warrior  to  the  street. 


340  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Then,  oh!  how  Tuckie  tore  his  hair  — 
His  nose— his  eyes— but  I  would  spare 
Your  feeling,  friends— altho',  I'm  blowed, 
One  cock-chick  clapped  its  wings  and  crowed. 

AVhen  weary  Tuckie  had  retired, 
Once  more  again  by  bravery  fired, 
Our  hero  from  the  dust  arose, 
(The  dark  blood  trickled  from  his  nose) : 
"  Aha !  "  he  cried,  "  she's  out  of  range, 
But !  "—he  shook  his  fist,  'Til  have  revenge  ! 
I'll  to  mine  inn— I'm  out  of  breath- 
Drink  just  one  glass,  and  then  for  Death !  " 

He  drank  one  glass,  he  called  for  more, 
He  boldly  swallowed  three  or  four ; 
His  sword  upon  a  cushioned  chair 
He  ground  till  it  could  cut  a  hair. 

A  will  he  made— it  was  not  long— 
The  while  he  hummed  a  martial  song ; 
His  courage  soon  by  whisky  rallied, 
He  paid  his  bill— then  forth  he  sallied. 

Poor  Tuckie,  heedless  of  her  fate, 

Had  barely  reached  the  court-yard  gate, 

When,  whish  !  a  sword  at  once  was  bare, 

A  savage  war-cry  rent  the  air, 

A  head  flew  off— 'twas  Tuckie's  own, 

And  drooped  her  bleeding  body  down. 

The  soldier  stooped  the  head  to  grasp 
Which  scarcely  yet  had  ceased  to  gasp ; 
He  held  it  by  the  comb  on  high— 

Whoe'er  my  foes,  thus  may  they  die ! ' 
With  this  remark  he  sheathed  his  blade, 
And  calmly  staggered  home  to  bed. 


Fighting  in  Canada.  341 

A  deed  like  tliis  must  surely  prove 
The  soldier's  pluck — the  patriot's  love  ; 
It  proves,  he  knows  nor  doubt  nor  fear, 
Our  gallant  British  Volunteer. 

Well,  now  to  cross  the  Atlantic  once  again,  we  find 
that  early  in  July,  General  Hall,  with  a  force  of  two 
thousand  five  hundred  men,  crossed  the  river  Detroit, 
and,  invading  Canada,  marched  upon  Sandwich.  Hero 
he  acted  pretty  much  as  the  bantam  did  on  the  fence. 
He  clapped  his  wings  and  crew. 

In  other  words,  he  issued  a  proclamation  declaring  that 
he  was  going  to  "  whip  all  creation/'  or  words  to  that 
effect,  and  threatened  a  war  of  extermination  if  Indians 
should  be  employed  against  him.  So  far  General  Hall 
was  like  the  bantam — but  he  had  not  the  bantam's 
courage. 

General  Hall  puts  one  in  mind  of  Mr.  Macpherson  in 
Professor  Aytoun's  clever  verses : — 

"  Macphairson  swore  a  feud 

Against  the  clan  MacTavish  ; 
And  marched  into  his  land 
To  murder  and  to  ravish. 

He  swore  a  solemn  oath, 

To  extirpate  the  vipers 
With  five-and-twenty  men, 

And  five-and-thirty  pipers." 

Well,  General  Hall,  like  Mr.  Macpherson,  was  beaten 
back  over  his  own  boundaries ;  obliged  to  retire  to  Forfc 
Detroit ;  was  invested  there  by  General  Brock,  who  had 


342  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

only  700  men  and  a  handful  of  Indians,  and  had  to 
capitulate;  2,500  men,  with  thirty  pieces  of  cannon,  be- 
coming the  prisoners  of  a  little  bold  army  of  not  half 
their  number. 

This  little  episode  will  remind  my  Scottish  readers  of 
the  battle  of  Prestonpans,  betwixt  General  Cope  and 
Bonnie  Prince  Charlie,  and  McGregor  Simpson's  spirited 
and  humorous  song  : — 

"  Cope  sent  a  letter  to  Dunbar, 
Saying,  Charlie,  meet  me  gin  ye  dare ; 
And  I'll  show  to  you  the  art  of  war, 
If  you'll  meet  me  in  the  morning. 

The  first  lines  Charlie  looked  upon, 
He  drew  his  sword  the  scabbard  from, 
Crying,  follow  me,  her  peautiful  men, 
Och !  she'll  be  such  a  tooce  of  a  morning. 

When  Charlie  arrove  at  Prestonpans, 
So  sheneral-like,  she  assembled  the  clans  ; 
And  when  she  did  give  the  word  o'  commands, 
Och !  they  fought  like  the  lions  in  the  morning. 

Then  Sir  John  and  his  men  they  couldna  stay, 
And  0  !  they  looked  both  old  and  wae, 
And  they  thought  far  better  to  run  away, 
Than  get  their  heads  tookit  off  in  the  morning." 

But  if  General  Hall  was  beaten,  America  was  not.  A 
second  invasion  of  Canada,  however,  was  also  repelled, 
and  a  third  in  November  met  with  no  better  success. 
Meanwhile,  however,  victory  attended  the  arms  of  the 
States  at  sea.  This  was  entirely  the  fault  of  the  British 
—not  of  our  brave  officers,  but  of  the  wretched  and 


Fighting  in  Canada.  343 

niggardly  Government  that  sent  out  the  worst  ship?, 
manned  by  undisciplined  sailors,  to  fight  against  America's 
long  frigates  and  carefully  drilled  gunners. 

That  our  fellows  fought  splendidly,  however,  even  the 
Yankees  will  admit ;  and  in  the  cases  where  our  vessels 
were  beaten,  the  enemy  was  stronger  in  guns  and  men, 
as  the  following  facts  from  English  and  American  history 
will  prove. 

The  historians  were  James  and  the  novelist  Cooper. 

I.  The  Java  was  beaten  by  the  American  Constitution. 

Java.  Constitution. 

Broadside  guns          ..        24  ...        28 

Weight  in  Ibs.   .         .        .       517  .        .        .768 

Crew,  men  only          .        .      344  .        .        .      460 

Tons 1092  .        .        .    1533 

II.  The  American  Hornet  beat  the  British  Peacock. 

Peacock.  Hornet. 

Broadside  guns ...  9  ...  10 
Weight  in  Ibs.  .  .  .  192  .  .  .297 
Crew,  men  only  .  .  110  .  .  .  162 
Tons 386  .  .  .460 

III.  The  British  brig  Boxer  was  beaten  by  the  American 
brig  Enterprise. 

Boxer.  Enterprise. 

Gnns 14    ...        16 

Men   .        .        .     g.,        .        66     .        .        .      120 

IV.  A  more  nearly  matched  fight  took  place  between 
the  Pelican,  a  British  brig,  and  the  American  brig  Argus, 
in   the   Irish  Channel;  but  notwithstanding  the  slight 
superiority  of  the  American  vessel,  she  was  beaten. 


344  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Pelican.  Argus. 

Broadside  guns ...  9  ...  10 
Weight  in  Ibs.  .  .  262  .  .  .228 

Crew,  men  only  .  .  101  .  .  .  122 
Tons  .  .  .  ...  385  .  .  .316 

V.  Then  I  need  hardly  mention  the  gallant  battle 
between  the  Shannon  and  Chesapeake.  Every  schoolboy 
knows  all  about  it,  both  in  this  country  and  in  America. 

Shannon.  Chesapeake. 

Broadside  guns ...  25  ...  25 
Weight  in  Ibs.  .  .  .  538  .  .  .590 
Crew 306  .  .  .376 

This  marvellous  fight  occupied  only  about  fifteen 
minutes  from  the  time  the  first  gun  was  fired  till  the 
Chesapeake  was  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  British.  But 
these  fine  old  fights  serve  to  point  a  moral,  as  -well  as 
adorn  a  tale.  And  the  lesson  they  teach  ought  to  be 
remembered  by  the  big  guns  who  wag  their  wise  heads 
in  the  Admiralty,  as  long  as  the  British  navy  floats. 

Meanwhile  it  would  ill  become  any  writer  of  an 
historical  novel  to  boast  of  the  success  of  the  arms  of  his 
country,  especially  against  so  gallant  a  nation  as  America. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  ought  to  take  a  bold  and  fair 
stand,  and  prevent  with  all  the  power  of  his  pen  the 
quondam  enemy  from  crowing  more  than  is  necessary. 
We  met  with  reverses  it  is  true,  but  how  boldly  the 
Canadians  fought ! 

"  The  absorbing  interest,"  gays  Alison,  "  of  the  contest, 
yet  doubtful  and  undecided  in  the  Peninsula,  and  the 


Fighting  in  Canada.  345 

urgent  necessity  of  sending  off  every  sabre  and  bayonet 
that  could  be  spared,  to  feed  the  army  of  Wellington, 
rendered  it  a  matter  of  impossibility  to  despatch  an 
adequate  force  to  the  Canadian  frontier,  and  compelled 
the  Government,  how  reluctant  soever,  to  intrust  the 
defence  of  those  provinces  mainly  to  the  bravery  and 
patriotism  of  their  own  inhabitants." 

Nor  was  the  confidence  reposed  in  vain ;  although,  as 
the  Americans  had  now  accumulated  a  considerable  force 
on  the  frontier,  the  struggle  was  more  violent,  and  victory 
alternated  with  disaster. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   WHITE    OWL    TO   THE    EESCUE. 

QCH  of  the  interest  of  this  lamentable  and 
fratricidal  war  centred  in  and  around  the 
lakes,   especially   Ontario   and   Erie.      A 
glance  at  any  map  will  show  the  position 
occupied  by  these  inland  seas. 

They  were  seas  in  every  sense  of  the  term,  and  both 
the  British  and  Americans  had  fleets  thereon,  but  the 
former  soon  were  found  to  be  inferior  in  every  way  to 
those  of  the  enemy. 

One  of  the  first  successes  of  the  Americans  was  ac- 
complished in  April,  1813 — while  Willie  Grant  and  Josh 
were  still  crusoes  on  Anticosti.  In  this  month  the 
enemy,  with  fourteen  vessels,  sailed  from  Sackett's  har- 
bour, and  after  a  sharp  fight  at  Fort  Toronto,  landed  and 
beat  back  General  Sheaffe  through  the  forests  and  hills, 
he  making  a  bold  show  though  only  possessed  of  eight 
hundred  men  and  Indians.  General  Pike,  the  American, 
and  two  hundred  of  his  men  were  blown  into  the  air  by 
the  explosion  of  a  powder  magazine.  Even  this  event, 

346 


The  White  Owl  to  the  Rescue.  347 

however,  did  not  gain  for  General  Sheaffe  the  victory, 
and  the  Yankees  retired  triumphant,  though  with  great 
loss. 

One  of  the  smartest  actions  ever  fought  on  an  inland 
sea  took  place  on  Lake  Erie  between  Captain  Barclay, 
of  the  British  navy,  and  Commodore  Parry,  of  the 
American.  After  three  hours  of  fearful  fighting  victory 
declared  itself  in  favour  of  the  enemy,  all  our  ships  being 
captured,  but  not  before  the  extraordinary  proportion  of 
one-third  our  total  number  were  killed  or  wounded. 

But  even  Parry,  splendid  sailor  though  he  was,  had 
no  occasion  to  boast  of  this  victory  considering  the  dis- 
parity in  numbers,  and  not  in  numbers  only,  for  the 
crews  of  the  British  vessels  hardly  mustered  one  seaman 
to  a  gun,  the  rest  being  landsmen,  who  knew  nothing 
of  the  working  of  a  ship  in  a  sea-way. 

The  following  is  the  anatomy  of  the  squadron,  to  us 
a  surgical  phrase  : — 


British. 

Ameri 

Ships,  brigs  and  schooners     . 

6 

8 

Broadside  guns        .         . 

34 

34 

"Weight  of  metal  in  Ibs.  . 

.      459 

.      928 

345 

.      580 

Tons 

,   1,250 

.      960 

From  this  table  it  will  be  seen  that  in  the  aggregate 
our  squadron  was  heavier  in  tonnage.  This  made  matters 
worse,  seeing  that  our  fellows  were  mostly  land-lubbers, 
who  allowed  Commodore  Parry  not  only  to  get  the 
weather-gage  of  them,  but  to  rake  their  vessels  fore 
and  aft. 


348  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

The  Americans  were  now  completely  masters  on  Lake 
Erie,  and  at  the  same  time  that  they  became  so  a  flotilla 
of  oar  schooners,  carrying  men,  was  captured  on  Lake 
Huron. 

The  war  was  now  carried  on  on  shore  with  great 
vigour. 

Our  troops  and  Indians  were  entirely  cut  off  from  York 
and  Kingston,  and  obliged  to  beat  a  retreat  to  the 
river  Thames  (vide  map  of  Canada),  after  dismantling 
and  destroying  all  the  forts  beyond  the  Grand  Eiver. 

A  sad  and  melancholy  retreat  it  was,  the  army  toiling, 
half-starved  and  wholly  weary  and  beaten,  out  through 
the  wild  and  endless  forests  for  nearly  a  fortnight, 
pursued  by  the  troops  of  Harrison.  This  officer  overtook 
the  British  rear  at  last,  and  Proctor  then  made  a  stand. 
It  was  but  a  forlorn  hope  at  the  best,  the  Americans 
being  well  fed  and  in  vastly  superior  numbers. 

How  could  it  end  but  in  disaster  to  our  arms  ?  The 
Americans  took  nearly  seven  hundred  prisoners,  and  the 
woods  were  everywhere  sprinkled  with  dead  and  dying. 
Our  Indians  fought  well,  and  their  brave  and  true-born 
chief,  Tecumseh  was  among  the  first  to  fall. 

The  elation  of  the  Americans  was  now  so  great  that 
another  invasion  of  Canada,  on  a  far  grander  scale,  was 
decided  on. 

It  is  a  matter  of  history  that  the  invasion  of  Lower 
Canada  was  frustrated  and  the  Americans  hurled  back 
before  the  splendid  charges  of  our  British  bayonets. 
The  invasion  of  Upper  Canada  was  also  a  failure ;  so 


The  White  Owl  to  the  Rescue.          349 

our  arms  were  victorious  along  the  whole  frontier,  a  line 
of  nearly  a  thousand  miles  in  length,  and  this  notwith- 
standing that  we  had  but  three  thousand  regular  troops, 
against  the  twenty  thousand  regulars  of  America. 

"To  have  repelled,"  says  Alison,  "all  the  efforts  of 
the  Americans,  in  such  circumstances  and  with  such 
forces,  is  of  itself  distinction ;  but  it  becomes  doubly 
glorious  when  it  is  recollected,  that  this  distant  warfare 
took  place  during  the.  crisis  of  the  contest  in  Europe,  at 
the  close  of  a  twenty  years'  war,  when  every  sabre  and 
bayonet  which  could  be  spared  were  required  for  the 
devouring  Peninsular  campaigns. 

•*  ^  *  *  *  * 

Our  story  takes  a  stride.  It  would  be  easy  indeed 
to  lose  one's  self  in  the  history  of  the  bloody  war  by 
land  and  sea  between  America  and  Britain,  and  quite 
the  reverse  of  impossible  to  interest  and  instruct  the 
reader  at  the  same  time  \  for  the  whole  tale  of  this 
fearful  war  reads  like  a  wild  romance  from  beginning 
to  end. 

It  is  a  tale  that  I  myself  have  listened  to,  with  rapt 
attention,  from  the  personal  narrative  of  my  grandfather, 
who  fought  in  Canada  for  a  year  and  a  half,  and  under- 
went not  only  all  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  the 
campaign,  but  all  the  fun  of  it.  Many  a  humorous 
story  he  used  to  tell  me,  as  I  sat  by  his  knee  when  a 
child,  of  life  in  the  woods  in  summer  and  in  winter,  and 
of  the  agremens  of  camp  life,  or  life  around  the  log  fires. 
I  think,  though,  that  I  enjoyed  the  stories  of  Indian 


350  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

manners  and  customs  most, — tales  about  tomahawks, 
scalping  knives,  wigwams,  moccasins,  snow-shoes,  and 
tobogins. 

A  piper  of  his  regiment  disappeared  in  a  most  mys- 
terious manner  one  night.  He  had  been  spirited  away, 
his  comrades  thought,  leaving  no  trace  behind.  The 
facts  of  the  case  are  these.  One  night,  after  all  in  the 
camp  were  wrapt  in  a  slumber  born  of  hard  work  in 
the  woods  all  day,  three  figures  might  have  been  seen 
gliding  along  through  the  bush,  or  crawling  through  the 
grass,  taking  advantage  of  every  bit  of  cover,  for  the 
moon  was  shining  brightly. 

They  might  have  been  seen — but  they  were  not,  the 
nearest  approach   to  their  being  discovered  was  when 
Tom  Sinclair,  a  Banffshire  lad,  who  was  doing  sentry- 
go,  heard  some  twigs  crack  not  far  off. 
"  Fa's  there  ?  "  cried  Tom. 

The  melancholy  yelp  of  what  he  took  for  an  Indian 
dog  was  all  the  reply,  and  the  sentry  leant  against  the 
tree  and  began  to  think  about  home  again.  But  Sandy 
McKay,  the  piper,  was  sleeping  out  of  doors,  for  it  was 
.  summer,  and  close  by  him  was  his  instrument,  for  he 
had  to  be  early  astir ;  when  suddenly  a  hand  was  clap- 
ped on  his  mouth,  and  next  moment  he  found  himself 
lifted  off  the  earth  and  borne  rapidly  down  through  the 
forest.  When  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  camp 
he  was  permitted  to  walk.  He  now  found  himself  a 
prisoner,  his  captors,  however,  being  friendly  Indians. 
He  and  they  had  a  long  march,  but  they  gave  Sandy 


The   White  Owl  to  the  Rescue.  351 

some  fire-water,  and  about  eight  in  the  morning  they 
reached  a  distant  village,  which  for  some  reason  or  other 
was  en  gala.  Several  chiefs  were  there,  and  white  men's 
scalps  were  fluttering  from  poles  near  the  tent  doors ; 
there  was  plenty  of  tobacco  smoke  about,  and  fire-water 
flowed  freely.  Sandy  soon  discovered  that  he  had  been 
made  prisoner  in  order  to  play. 

But  the  drawback  was  this,  there  was  no  end  to  it; 
and  for  three  days  and  two  nights,  at  the  end  of  which 
time  a  party  of  soldiers  found  and  released  him,  poor 
Sandy  was  kept  playing.  Certainly  his — • 

"Hornpipes,  jigs,  strathspeys,  and  reels 
Put  life  and  mettle  in  their  heels." 

But  it  was  tiresome  for  the  piper.  He  had  plenty  of 
food  and  plenty  of  fire-water,  and  the  uncomforting 
assurance  that  if  he  did  not  continue  to  play,  he  would 
be  tomahawked  as  a  useless  member  of  society. 

Well,  I  pick  up  the  thread  of  my  narrative,  after  all 
this  digression,  and  once  more  bring  Willie  Grant  and 
Josh  on  the  boards  towards  the  last  act  in  the  war — 
namely,  the  autumn  of  1815. 

Where  have  they  been  since  last  we  saw  them  ?  And 
what  have  they  been  doing  ? 

In  the  first  place,  Willie's  friend  Dem,  captain  of  the 
dashing  Sang  Froid,  was  as  good  as  his  word ;  he  put 
them  both  on  board  a  British  merchant  vessel  which  he 
captured,  and  might  have  burned  but  for  his  promise, 
and  in  due  time  they  were  landed  in  Quebec. 


352  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Here  they  took  up  their  quarters  for  a  time,  Willie 
being  still  somewhat  exercised  in  his  mind  as  to  what 
he  ought  to  do  for  the  best.  His  desire  was  to  do  his 
duty.  No  cowardly  fear  of  death  prevented  him  from  at 
that  very  time  delivering  himself  up  and  demanding  the 
ordeal  of  a  court-martial,  but  this  he  felt  would  have 
been  wilfully  throwing  his  life  away. 

His  next  thought  was  to  change  his  name  and  enter 
the  ranks  as  a  private  soldier,  for  to  fight  for  his  king 
and  country  he  was  determined.  The  war  was  now 
going  on,  and  troops,  volunteers  and  others,  were  every 
day  being  hurried  away  to  the  frontiers. 

"Let  us  go,  anyhow,"  said  Josh  to  him  one  day. 
"  Let  us  move  west  with  the  crowd ;  we  will  never  do 
any  good  here." 

"  Just  what  I  was  thinking,  Josh,  my  boy.  We'll 
move  west." 

And  to  the  west  they  went,  and  in  a  month's  time 
found  themselves  far  away  on  the  borders  of  Lake  Erie. 
This  country  was  but  sparsely  peopled  then,  and  where 
cities  now  stand  there  were  then  only  log  huts  or  ham- 
lets in  clearings  of  the  forest  land. 

"  Our  money  will  not  hold  out  very  long,"  said  Willie 
one  evening  to  Josh,  "so  we  must  be  thinking  of  a 
move  of  some  kind." 

Fortune  seemed  to  decide  what  the  move  was  to  be, 
for  while  out  shooting  in  the  woods  the  very  next  day, 
they  came  upon  an  Indian  lying  groaning  under  a  bush. 
By  the  bursting  of  his  gun  three  fingers  of  his  left  hand 


The  White  Owl  to  the  Rescue.          353 

had  been  blown  to  atoms.  That  he  was  a  chief  was 
evident  from  his  dress,  and  his  paint  showed  he  was  on 
the  war-path. 

Willie  did  all  for  him  in  his  power,  and  helped  him  to 
camp,  where  the  surgeon  attended  to  his  wounds. 

Now  an  Indian  never  forgets  a  favour.  "Once  a 
friend,  never  a  foe,"  is  a  motto  with  the  red  man. 

This  chief  would  be  unable  to  fight  for  many  a  day, 
and  he  determined  to  return  to  his  village,  that  the  wise 
medicine  women  of  his  tribe  might  heal  his  grievous 
wounds. 

Would  Willie  and  his  friend  accompany  him  ?  he 
asked.  They  should  be  as  welcome  as  brothers,  and  the 
hills  and  valleys  in  his  country  abounded  with  game. 

"  Come,"  he  added  ;  "  come !  My  brothers  will 
come  ?  " 

Willie  was  just  in  that  position  that  it  mattered  little 
where  he  went,  and  in  that  frame  of  mind  that  he  did 
not  care.  So  both  accepted  the  Indian's  invitation. 

Their  life  for  the  next  two  or  three  months  was  in- 
deed a  new  one ;  but,  born  and  brought  up  as  they  had 
been  in  the  wild  Scottish  Highlands,  and  accustomed  to 
rough  it  in  all  ways  and  all  countries  and  climates,  they 
very  soon  settled  down  to  their  new  mode  of  existence, 
and  actually  began  to  like  it.  Indeed,  they  found  there 
was  "  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods "  that  was  very 
much  to  their  taste. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  that,  all  things 
considered,  Willie  Grant  became  an  amateur  Indian  chief, 


354  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

with  Josh  as  his  lieutenant,  and  that  he  was  dubbed  "  The 
White  Owl." 

He  learned  the  tactics  of  the  Indians,  and  not  only 
this,  but  he  taught  them  in  turn  many  of  the  methods 
of  fighting  in  use  among  the  white  men,  and  drilled  a 
body  of  warriors  a  thousand  strong. 

Having  done  so,  he  marched  upon  Lake  Erie,  and 
had  soon  the  pleasure  and  pride  of  having  his  services 
accepted  by  the  generals  in  command. 

Willie  was  now  happy  and  contented ;  his  conscience 
was  at  rest.  He  could  not  accuse  himself  of  having  left 
his  country's  service ;  he  was  still  fighting  for  the 
glory  of  old  England  and  the  integrity  of  her  Canadian 
dominions. 

His  Indians  were  better  drilled  and  equipped  than 
any  other  body  of  red  men  employed  in  the  war;  and  so 
all  through  the  sanguinary  conflict  he  fought,  and  the 
name  of  "  The  White  Owl "  became  famous,  for  whereso- 
ever his  band  of  warriors  came,  victory  seemed  to  come 
along  with  them. 

December,  1815,  came  at  last,  and  with  it  rumours  of 
peace. 

The  American  invasions  of  Canada  had  been  frustrated 
one  by  one,  and  for  a  time  there  was  a  lull.  Many  out- 
lying forts  and  stations  were  however  still  menaced  by 
hostile  savages,  and  scouts  one  day  brought  word  that  a 
British  general,  with  a  company  of  the  Scottish  regi- 
ments, was  beleaguered  near  Lake  St.  Clair,  that  there 
were  many  women  and  children  in  the  camp  and  fort, 


The  White  Owl  to  the  Rescue.          355 

and  that  unless  assistance  arrived  soon,  surrender  and 
butchery  was  inevitable. 

No  one  who  has  not  read  tacts  instead  of  fiction  about 
red  Indians  of  the  hunting  districts  of  America,  can  form 
any  idea  of  the  vindictive  cruelty  they  practise  upon 
prisoners,  male  and  female,  who  have  the  terrible  mis- 
fortune to  fall  into  their  hands. 

Willie  knew  this ;  he  had  been  a  witness  of  it  more 
than  once,  and  when  he  heard  the  news  of  this  belea- 
guered garrison,  his  desire  to  deliver  his  countrymen  led 
him  at  once  to  seek  audience  of  the  commander  of  the 
British  forces,  who  gladly  accepted  his  services  to  go 
forthwith  to  the  rescue. 

The  enemy  was  said  to  be  three  thousand  strong,  as 
opposed  to  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  white  men 
within  the  fort  and  a  small  body  of  friendly  Indians. 

All  our  hero  asked  for  was  about  fifty  British  soldiers, 
with  a  large  supply  of  provisions  and  ammunition.  This 
was  at  once  granted,  and  in  a  few  days  the  expedition 
started. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    BATTLE   AT   THE    FOKT. 

;  ON  Linden,  when  the  sun  was  low, 
All  bloodless  lay  the  untrodden  snow  ; 
And  dark  as  winter  was  the  flow 
Of  Iser,  rolling  rapidly. 

But  Linden  showed  another  sight 
When  the  drums  beat  at  dead  of  night, 
Commanding  fires  of  death  to  light 

The  darkness  of  her  scenery." 

HERE  was  a  distance  of  nearly  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  to  be  traversed  before 
they  reached  the  beleaguered  fort ;  and 
this  through  forests,  over  hills  and  rivers, 
and  all  in  the  dead  of  winter.  The  whole  country  was 
buried  in  soft,  powdery  snow,  and  the  frost  was  intense. 

But  Willie  made  his  preparations  well,  and  with  the 
skill  of  a  born  general.  He  had  liberty  to  choose  his 
white  soldiers,  and  he  did  so  cautiously  and  carefully 
— men  of  physique  only,  and  Scots  all.  We  must  try 
to  forgive  the  White  Owl  for  being  so  ultra-patriotic. 


The  Battle  at  the  Fort.  357 

No  fire-water  was  to  be  carried,  except  for  the  use  of 
the  sick,  and  it  was  under  the  charge  of  the  British 
lieutenant  and  surgeon  of  the  soldiers. 

The  Indians,  hardier  than  Arabs,  were  dressed  in 
their  own  wild,  uncouth  fashion ;  and  the  white  soldiers 
were  extra  well  clad ;  their  clothes  were  woollen  of  the 
warmest,  they  wore  far  caps  and  worsted  mittens,  and 
had  a  large  supply  each  of  the  best  woollen  stockings ; 
they  also  had  moccassins  supplied  them  of  the  best 
moose-deer,  well  tanned  hide,  and  each  man  was  pro- 
vided with  a  pair  of  snow-shoes. 

The  Indian  moccassin  is  a  kind  of  large  slipper,  capable 
enough  of  holding  the  foot  encased  in  three  socks.  To 
be  perfect  for  winter  use,  the  hide  must  not  only  be 
well  tanned,  but  soaked  in  strong  salt  and  water  for 
twenty-four  hours,  and  when  half  dry  steeped  for  days 
in  train  oil;  it  is  then  snow-proof  and  pliable  at  the 
same  time. 

The  snow-shoes  were  formed  after  the  plan  on  which 
lawn- tennis  bats  are  made.  Each  shoe  is  about  one 
yard  long  by  fifteen  inches  wide,  the  framework  being 
of  the  best  hickory,  with  two  cross-bars ;  the  network 
is  of  the  best  dressed  deerskin,  and  drawn  exceedingly 
tight,  so  that  it  may  be  elastic  without  giving  too  much. 

The  foot  is  secured  nearly  mid-way  on  the  shoe,  there 
being  an  opening  about  nine  inches  from  the  fore-part, 
behind  the  cross-bar,  to  admit  of  the  play  of  the  toes, 
and  a  strap  over  this  to  keep  the  foot  in  position;  a 


,358  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

piece  of  skin  or  list  is  used  to  secure  the  foot  to  the 
shoe. 

A  peculiar  motion  is  necessary  to  comfort,  and  if  one 
trips  or  falls,  he  has  to  untie  a  shoe,  place  it  on  the 
snow,  and  lean  on  it  while  he  scrambles  up  and  readjusts 
the  affair. 

Travelling  on  snow-shoes  is  rather  fatiguing  at  first, 
especially  to  the  tendon  behind  the  heel ;  but,  like  skat- 
ing or  'cycling,  such  a  mode  of  progression  is  learned 
in  time;  then  its  advantages  are  duly  appreciated. 

A  kind  of  tologin,  or  Indian  sledge,  was  used  for 
carrying  the  provisions,  blankets,  and  ammunition. 

With  many  a  good  wish  and  hearty  cheers  from  the 
comrades  they  left  behind  them,  the  expedition  started 
silently  away,  and  soon  disappeared  in  the  depths  of 
the  primeval  forest. 


Meanwhile,  how  fared  it  with  those  in  the  fort  ? 

It  was  early  in  November,  before  the  snow  had  begun 
to  fall,  that  the  commandant  first  got  word  that  hostile 
Indians  were  on  the  war-path,  and  might  soon  be  ex- 
pected to  cross  the  river  St.  Clair,  and  advance  in  force. 
The  position  he  held,  however,  was  an  important  one, 
and  not  at  that  time  considered  to  be  untenable.  The 
general,  therefore,  determined  to  hold  it  even  against 
fearful  odds,  being  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  that  as  the 
Americans  had  been  virtually  defeated  and  hurled  back 


The  Battle  at  the  Fort.  359 

into  their  own  country,  his  fort  and  camp  would  soon 
be  relieved. 

He  had  not  been  idle  for  weeks  back.  In  a  wild 
country  like  this  it  is  folly  not  to  be  always  prepared 
for  the  worst. 

The  camp  was  situated  in  the  middle  of  a  clearing  in 
the  foi-est,  with  a  tributary  of  the  Thames  bending  half 
round  it.  It  consisted  of  a  number  of  strong  log  huts,  and 
the  fort  itself,  of  wood  and  stone,  and  so  massively  built 
as  to  look  almost  impregnable  without  the  aid  of  artillery. 

The  commandant,  however,  had  made  assurance  doubly 
sure,  and  a  double  rampart  with  massive  gates  was 
erected,  not  only  on  the  forest-face  of  the  encampment, 
but  along  the  river's  edge  itself;  and  added  to  this,  pits 
were  dug  and  sharp-pointed  stakes  driven  in;  and,  in 
a  word,  everything  that  ingenuity  could  devise  was  done 
to  make  the  position  a  safe  one. 

Provisions  were  not  over  plentiful,  however;  but 
buffalo  and  bear  meat  was  collected  and  salted,  so  that 
if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  the  garrison  could  fall 
back  on  that. 

Luckily,  ammunition  was  plentiful,  and,  terrible  though 
it  be  to  think  of  and  relate,  a  magazine  was  laid  beneath 
the  fort,  that  could  be  fired  in  an  instant ;  for,  well  know- 
ing the  terrible  tortures  inflicted  on  prisoners  by  these 
savages,  the  commandant  had  determined  those  tenderly 
nurtured  British  ladies  and  children  should  never  fall 
alive  into  their  hands. 


360  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

It  was  after  all  preparations  had  been  completed  that 
a  gloom,  which  it  was  impossible  to  dispel,  began  to 
settle  down  on  the  fort.  Even  the  Indians,  generally 
so  lively,  seemed  dull  and  depressed. 

Scouts  had  been  sent  out,  but  many  of  them  never 
returned,  having  been  met  and  slain  by  the  spies  of  the 
advancing  foe. 

Other  Indians  had  been  despatched  to  the  forts  near 
Lake  Erie,  but  the  commandant  of  the  beleaguered 
garrison  had,  of  course,  no  means  of  ascertaining  whether 
they  had  ever  reached  their  destination. 

The  stillness  and  solitude  of  their  surroundings,  and 
the  uncertainty  of  their  coming  fate,  greatly  oppressed 
the  garrison. 

The  general  determined  to  build  an  out-work  beyond 
the  gates.  This  was  little  else  save  a  ditch  and  pali- 
saded rampart,  commanded  by  the  fort,  which  mounted 
three  pieces  of  ordnance. 

When  this  was  accomplished  there  was  nothing  else 
to  do  save  to  wait. 

For  days  and  days  there  had  not  been  a  sound  of 
life  in  the  forest,  except  the  occasional  shrill  scream 
of  some  startled  bird,  and  at  night  the  mournful  moan- 
ing of  the  forest  owl,  with  now  and  then  the  yelp 
of  a  wolf.  It  was  the  fall  of  the  year,  or  rather  the 
year  had  fallen,  and  there  was  not  a  leaf  left  on  the 
trees,  and  nature  herself  seemed  waiting — waiting  for 
winter. 


The  Battle  at  the  Fort.  361 

For  days  and  days  there  had  not  been  a  breath  of 
wind  to  move  a  branch  or  snap  a  twig. 

One  afternoon  a  scout  came  in,  and  with  grave  face 
announced  the  fact  that  the  enemy  was  within  a  day's 
march  of  the  fort;  but  his  account  of  their  numbers 
was  so  dubious  that  the  commandant  determined  to  send 
one  of  his  officers  out  to  reconnoitre. 

He  would  have  gone  himself  had  his  daughter  not 
been  in  the  fort;  but  he  was  fearful  that,  stealing  a 
march  upon  him,  the  savages  might  attack  in  his  absence. 

Who  would  volunteer  on  this  dangerous  exploit  ? 
Hugh  Dawson  came  at  once  to  the  front.  He  was  a 
slightly  built,  wiry  Highlander, — a  sort  of  a  fellow  that 
would  volunteer  to  lead  a  forlorn  hope, — and  was  never 
so  happy  apparently  as  when  in  danger. 

"Hugh,"  said  the  general,  "you  will  need  all  your 
cunning  and  strength,  too,  if  you  fall  in  with  the  scouts 
of  these  red-skins." 

"All  right,  sir,"  said  Hugh  cheerfully.  "  I'm  ready  to 
be  off;  and  if  I  die,  I  have  neither  chick  nor  child  to 
mourn  for  me." 

So  away  went  Hugh  Dawson  westward,  guided  by 
the  sun.  It  still  wanted  three  hours  of  sunset,  and 
before  daylight  departed  he  hoped  to  reach  a  distant 
ridge  of  hills,  which  commanded  the  enemy's  whole 
position,  and  look  down  from  these  into  their  camp. 

He  hurried  on,  disregarding  all  precautions,  not  creep- 
ing stealthily  from  tree  to  tree,  as  do  the  Indians.  No, 


362  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Hugh  left  plenty  of  trail,  if  there  were  any  savage  in 
the  forest  to  pick  it  up ;  in  fact,  he  trusted  to  speed  of 
foot  and  daring  more  than  anything  else.  And  so  far 
he  was  successful.  He  gained  the  desired  position  just 
as  the  sun  was  going  down  over  the  distant  woods,  and 
saw,  far  away  in  the  plain  beneath  him,  the  whole  Indian 
army  in  camp.  They  seemed  at  rest  for  the  night,  for 
the  horses  were  hobbled,  and  sentinels  set,  and  most  of 
the  savages  were  lying  down  in  their  blankets  near  the 
camp  fii-es.  He  reckoned  their  numbers  as  not  a  man 
less  than  two  thousand.  He  carefully  noted  their  posi- 
tion, and  every  coign  of  advantage  or  disadvantage  on 
the  ground,  and  had  just  raised  himself  from  the  grass, 
and  was  about  to  retire,  when  a  puff  of  white  smoke 
rose  from  a  neighbouring  thicket,  and  at  the  same 
moment  a  musket  bullet  went  with  a  ping  past  his  ear. 

Hugh  Dawson  threw  up  his  arms  and  dropped  to  the 
ground  as  if  shot. 

Completely  taken  off  his  guard,  the  Indian  left  his 
place  of  concealment  and  rushed  forward  with  drawn 
knife,  an  eager  look  of  victory  on  his  face.  He  had 
come  for  Hugh's  scalp  ! 

Hugh  was  on  his  knees  in  a  instant,  an<3  had  fired  his 
musket ;  without  effect,  however,  for  next  moment  the 
savage  was  on  him,  and  the  two  were  engaged  in  a 
grapple  for  dear  life. 

The  Indian  was  like  an  eel,  and  more  than  once  Hugh 
felt  the  touch  of  cold  steel  on  his  neck;  but  after  a  time 


1     The  Battle  at  the  Fort.  363 

he  managed  to  disarm  his  antagonist,  then  summoning  all 
his  strength  for  a  final  spurt,  he  dashed  the  savage  on 
the  hard  rocky  ground,  and  there  he  lay  stunned. 

It  would  have  been  easy  now  for  Hugh  to  have  finished 
his  foe,  but  he  disliked  striking  a  fallen  man. 

"  I'll  make  sure  of  you,  at  all  events,"  said  Hugh  to 
himself. 

He  dragged  the  inanimate  form  up  to  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  and  sent  him  rolling  down  the  ridge.  It  was  a  bare, 
steep  bluff,  and  Hugh  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
Indian  safely  at  the  foot  of  it ;  that  is,  safely  as  far  as 
he — Hugh — was  concerned. 

Then  he  picked  up  his  musket,  reloaded,  and  at  once 
went  off  down  the  hill  fort-ways  to  the  forest. 

Hugh's  adventures  were  not  yet  over,  however,  for 
no  sooner  had  he  reached  the  woods  than  the  wind  began 
to  lift  up  its  voice  and  moan  ominously  through  the 
trees.  It  was  a  rising  gale. 

An  hour  afterwards  the  storm  seemed  to  have  reached 
its  height.  It  was  inky  dark  too.  As  he  had  come  along 
in  the  morning,  he  had  boldly  barked  the  trees,  regard- 
less of  his  own  safety  in  doing  so,  and  leaving  a  trail 
that  a  child  could  follow. 

For  hours  he  managed  to  guide  himself  through  the 
woods  by  means  of  the  barked  trees ;  then  he  lost  himself 
completely,  having  only  the  wind  and  rain  to  direct 
him.  He  had  been  beating  against  this,  and  continued 
to  do  so. 


364  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old 

The  wind  appeared  even  yet  to  gather  strength,  roar- 
ing through  the  bending  trees  with  a  sound  like  a  raging 
gale  at  sea.  If  wild  beasts  had  been  in  the  forest,  their 
voices  would  have  been  drowned  in  the  surge  of  the 
awful  storm.  Every  now  and  then  a  huge  branch  would 
snap  or  a  tree  itself  come  down;  then  high  over  the 
howling  of  the  wind  rose  the  noise  of  crashing  timber,  as 
the  falling  tree  crushed  others  with  its  weight. 

Still  Hugh  pushed  on,  feeling  his  way  in  the  intensity 
of  the  darkness  with  his  extended  musket.  When  fairly 
beaten  out  and  gasping  for  breath,  suddenly  to  his  joy 
he  found  himself  in  a  clearing,  and  not  far  in  front  of 
him  shone  the  signal  light  of  the  fort. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  bold  Hugh  Dawson  was  safe 
in  camp  and  had  made  his  report. 

There  was  no  saying  now  how  soon  or  from  what 
direction  the  hostile  Indians  might  make  their  attack,  so 
the  sentries  were  doubled  all  round  the  ramparts. 

Shortly  after  midnight  the  gale  sensibly  lessened,  and 
by  next  morning  the  whole  country  was  buried  in  a 
white  cocoon  of  beautiful  snow. 

Days  and  nights  went  on,  and  still  no  savages  ap- 
peared ;  but  although  no  more  snow  fell,  the  frost  got 
more  intense  every  hour. 

At  length,  much  to  the  consternation  of  every  one,  the 
river  itself  became  covered  with  a  solid  sheet  of  ice. 

Here  was  a  danger  that  had  not  been  reckoned  on, 
and  it  was  doubtless  for  this  that  the  Indians  had  been 


The  Battle  at  the  Fort.  365 

waiting.  There  was  nothing  for  it,  however,  but  to 
strengthen  the  palisades  on  the  river  bank,  which,  trust- 
ing to  the  river  as  a  protection,  the  commandant  had 
left  weaker  than  any  other  part  of  the  fortifications. 

The  Indians  of  the  fort  and  the  white  men  had  been 
engaged  at  this  work  all  the  day,  and  had  sought  their 
couches  worn  out  and  weary. 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  moonlight  night,  and  nothing 
unusual  occurred,  nor  did  any  sound  break  the  stillness 
till  far  into  the  morning  hours,  when  suddenly  the  sharp 
crack  of  a  sentinel's  musket  rang  out  in  the  clear  air, 
and  next  moment  the  drum  was  beating  to  arms  and  the 
whole  camp  was  astir. 

The  trembling  women  and  children  were  placed  in  the 
innermost  room  of  the  fort.  Then  men  speedily  bade 
their  wives  and  children  a  hurried  and  affectionate  adieu, 
and  the  commandant  said  adieu  to  his  daughter,  com- 
mending her  to  God. 

She  was  a  beautiful  girl,  of  about  seventeen  or 
eighteen,  who  had  come  into  these  wilds  with  her 
father  purely  for  the  love  she  bore  him,  and  through 
no  wish  to  meet  with  adventure. 

The  whole  clearing  now  seemed  alive  with  savages, 
shouting,  howling,  brandishing  their  weapons,  and 
hurrying  on  to  the  attack. 

What  a  blessing  the  moonlight  proved  to  the  garrison  ! 
for  it  enabled  them  after  an  hour's  hard  fighting  to  repel 
the  terrible  assault.  The  savages  retired  discomfited, 


366  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

beaten,  leaving  hundreds  of  dead  and  their  wounded  to 
crawl  away  as  best  they  might,  or  perish  among  the  snow. 

The  cannons  had  done  great  execution,  among  the 
retiring  hordes,  loaded  as  they  were  with  canister  shot. 

The  attack  was  renewed  again  the  next  day,  and  the 
next;  but  if  any  advantage  accrued  to  the  savages,  it 
lay  in  the  fact  that  although  repelled,  they  managed  to 
weaken  the  little  garrison  considerably. 

The  fourth  and  fifth  days  passed  off  quietly,  but  it 
was  only  the  quiet  that  preceded  the  hurricane. 

The  next  attack  was  made  under  the  darkness  of  the 
early  part  of  the  night,  and  it  was  a  fearful  one.  The 
whole  force  of  it  was  directed  at  first  to  burning  down 
the  gates.  In  spite  of  a  well-directed  fire  from  the 
guns,  the  enemy  succeeded  in  dragging  wood  from  the 
forest  and  piling  it  up  against  and  over  the  gateway. 

The  danger  was  extreme. 

By  dint  of  hard  work  and  wonderful  exertion  a  gun 
was  detached  from  the  fort  and  hauled  close  to  the  gates. 
Again  and  again  the  savages  rushed  onwards  with  fiery 
brands  to  fire  the  woodwork,  and  again  and  again  were 
they  hurled  back,  literally  blown  from  the  gun. 

The  moon  rose  at  last,  and  though  its  light  gave  a 
better  opportunity  of  pointing  the  cannon,  it  also  gave 
the  enemy  a  better  chance  of  picking  off  the  men.  So 
the  little  force  was  falling  fast. 

If  they  carried  the  gate,  all  was  lost !— there  was  no- 
thing left  but  to  blow  the  fort  up. 


The  Battle  at  the  Fort.  367 

Even  when  the  din  of  battle  was  at  its  loudest,  and 
when  hope  itself  was  sinking,  the  general  found  time  to 
draw  Hugh  Dawson  aside  and  give  him  some  orders. 

Despite  all  the  efforts  to  restrain  the  hostile  Indians, 
the  pile  was  fired  at  last,  and  now  it  became  but  a  mat- 
ter of  a  few  minutes. 

The  flames  leapt  high  in  air,  and  the  smoke  and  sparks 
rolled  in  a  dense  cloud  to  leeward,  obscuring  even  the 
moon  itself.  There  came  a  lull  in  the  fight  now ;  you 
could  hear  the  fire  hissing  and  the  wood  crackling ;  then 
the  gate  fell,  and  through  the  smoke  and  the  flames  leapt 
the  Indians  like  very  fiends  and  furies. 

Before  joining  in  the  awful  melee  that  now  ensued,  the 
general  raised  his  hand  to  Hugh  Dawson,  and  the  man 
glided  away  on  his  awful  mission. 

He  is  turning  to  enter  the  doorway,  when  even  above 
the  din  of  battle  he  thinks  he  can  hear  the  noise  of 
firing  far  in  the  rear,  and  a  shout  such  as  never  came 
from  the  throats  of  Indians.  He  listens ;  it  is  repeated 
again  and  again. 

He  rushes  to  the  top  of  the  fort.  Yes  !  yes !  yonder 
they  are,  redcoats  advancing  rapidly  towards  the  gate, 
while  the  hostile  enemy  is  being  beaten  back  into  the 
woods  by  men  dressed  almost  like  themselves. 

Then  answering  hurrahs  are  sent  back  from  the  fort. 

The  men  still  contesting  the  gate  hear  it,  and  cheer 
and  fight  with  redoubled  fury. 

The  women  and  children  in  the  fort  hear  it,  and  with 


368  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

smiles  and  hope  lighting  up  their  faces  shout,  "  Saved  ! 
saved ! " 

In  fifteen  minutes  more  all  was  over.  In  fifteen 
minutes  more  General  Fraser,  for  it  was  no  other,  stood 
in  the  inner  room  of  the  fort  holding  Willie  Grant  by 
the  hand  as  he  presented  him  to  his  daughter  Etheldine, 
who  had  thrown  herself  into  her  father's  arms  and  was 
smiling  through  her  tears. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LIKE    A   BIRD    ON    THE    WAVE. 

"  Now  wild  war's  deadly  blast  is  blown, 

And  gentle  peace  returning, 
Wi'  many  a  sweet  babe  fatherless, 
And  many  a  widow  mourning." 

— Burns. 

DEAR  land  of  my  birth,  far  from  thee  I  have  been, 
By  streamlets  so  flowery  and  valleys  so  green, 
In  vain  seeking  pleasure  ;  for  still,  as  of  yore, 
The  home  of  my  heart  is  the  vale  of  Strethmore." 

— Ballantine. 


VEN  a  landsman,  had   he  gone  on   board 

H.M.S.  A on  that  particular  forenoon, 

could  have  told  that  there  was  something 
very  unusual  taking  place  in  the  ship. 
He  could  have  told  it  before  he  mounted  the  ladder  even, 
for  yonder,  fast  to  the  boom,  were  officers'  boats,  with 
their  sprucely  dressed  crews,  from  many  other  ships  in 
the  fleet. 

There  were  very  few  officers  on  the  quarter-deck,  the 
sentries  everywhere  looked  solemn  and  subdued.     On  the 


370  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

main  deck  and  on  the  lower  deck  there  was  an  unusual 
hush,  less  laughing  and  less  talking,  and  an  entire  absence 
of  practical  joking.  Officers  stood  in  groups  on  the  after 
part  of  the  main  deck,  and  there  were  two  sentries  out- 
side  the  captain's  cabin. 

Let  us  enter. 

We  do  so,  and  see  a  sight.  A  sight  that  would  please 
ladies  at  all  events. 

A  court  martial ! 

The  pomp  and  panoply,  the  fixed  and  glittering 
bayonets,  the  clanking  swords,  the  splendid  uniforms  of 
scarlet,  blue,  and  gold,  the  dignity  of  the  presiding  captain 
and  the  seriousness  of  the  other  officers,  who  are  seated  at 
the  two  sides  of  a  long  green  baize-covered  table,  and 
the  youth  and  handsome  appearance  of  the  prisoner,  who 
between  a  file  of  armed  marines  stands  at  the  other  end 
facing  the  court, — all  make  up  a  picture  that  is  at  once 
imposing  and  effective. 

And  the  prisoner  is  our  hero  Willie  Grant ! 

The  war  is  over,  French  and  English  and  Americans 
are  friendly  powers  once  more.  Willie  had  sought  and 
obtained  passage  home  in  the  dear  old  Castile,  on  board 
of  which  he  had  found  many  of  his  old  messmates, 
including  the  redoubtable  Dick-Rae,  the  gallant  good 
Dr.  Carver,  bold  Old  Benbow,  and  Captain  Oldrey. 

Arrived  at  Portsmouth,  he  had  demanded  to  be  tried 
by  court  martial,  and  his  trial  was  now  proceeding. 

"The  prisoner  was  accused — by  his  own  desire — of 
holding  communication  with  the  enemy  in  Newfound- 


Like  a  Bird  on  the  Wave.  371 

land,"  said  the  prosecutor  for  the  Crown  ;  "  and  but  for 
the  unfortunate  wreck  of  the  Dardanelle,  the  case  would 
have  been  decided  years  ago,  and  he,  the  prisoner,  would 
not  now  be  standing  at  the  foot  of  that  table.  The 
prisoner,"  he  might  add,  "  had  demanded  this  court 
martial,  and  at  first  blush  this  may  seem  in  his  favour,  he 
may  appear  as  if  he  wished  to  clear  his  character.  When 
however  the  court  had  heard  what  the  witnesses  had  to  say, 
affairs  would  appear  in  a  different  light,  and  they  would 
find  that  the  only  things  they  could  give  the  prisoner 
credit  for,  were  a  boldness  almost  akin  to  impertinence, 
and  an  utter  disregard  for  his  own  life.  The  first  witness 
he  should  call  would  be  Lieutenant  Harness,  who  at  the 
time  of  her  wreck  was  mate  of  the  Dardanelle." 

Harness  was  now  brought  to  the  board.  He  gave  the 
prisoner  one  glance  which  was  returned  with  haughty 
interest. 

The  officers  leant  earnestly  over  the  table  now,  and 
every  eye  was  fixed  on  Harness. 

He  stood  steadily  enough,  and  gave  his  evidence  un- 
flinchingly, only  appearing  a  little  uneasy  at  times  when 
he  heard  the  scratching  sound  of  quills  on  paper,  and 
knew  that  his  every  answer  was  being  taken  down. 

His  accusations  against  the  prisoner  were  precisely 
the  same  as  those  he  gave  on  the  quarter-deck  of  the 
Dardanelle. 

"  Have  you  any  questions  to  put  to  this  witness  ?  " 
said  the  president. 

( '  Not  at  present,  sir." 


72  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

Harness  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  apparently,  and  re- 
tired. 

The  next  witness  was  the  marine,  Cleaver. 

He  appeared  strangely  confused,  and  his  answers  were 
sometimes  hardly  intelligible. 

"  Have  you  any  questions  to  ask,  prisoner  ?  " 

"  Only  one  or  two  now,  but  I  may  want  him  re-called. 
Were  you  not,"  he  said  to  Cleaver,  "  twice  flogged 
for  drunkenness  and  once  for  theft.  Answer  '  yes '  or 
1  no '  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  but  what  has  that  to  do " 

"  Silence  !  "  cried  the  court. 

"  I  beg  to  ask  the  court,"  continued  Willie,  "  if  that 
man  is  strictly  sober  now." 

This  question  was  not  allowed,  and  the  man  was  per- 
mitted to  stand  down. 

This  was  positively  all  the  evidence  for  the  prosecution, 
but  it  was  enough,  if  it  held  good,  to  condemn  the  prisoner 
to  death. 

The  counsel  for  the  prisoner  here  had  a  few  whispered 
words  with  him,  and  Willie  proceeded  to  address  the 
court  in  his  own  behalf.  There  was  a  sad  look  on  his 
face  as  he  rose  up,  and  this  was  caused  by  the  fact  that 
his  principal  witness  had  not  yet  appeared ;  but  ere  yet 
he  had  opened  his  mouth,  he  heard  the  glad  shout  of 
"  Side  boys !  "  and  heard  the  rattle  of  their  footsteps  on 
the  ladder ;  he  even  heard  the  expected  witness's  voice 
sing  out,  "  In  bow  oar  !  "  and  "  way  enough  !  "  as  he 
swept  round  and  came  alongside. 


•Like  a  Bird  on  the  Wave.  373 

There  was  no  more  sadness  in  Willie's  face  after  that, 
and  no  tremor  in  his  voice. 

He  began  by  reminding  the  court  of  his  own  good 
character  in  the  service  previous  to  the  present  accusa- 
tions, which  he  would  soon  prove  false,  hoping  the 
president  would  pardon  one  standing  face  to  face  with 
threatened  death,  for  seeming  to  boast  of  his  ever-stead- 
fast zeal  for  the  king's  service,  and  his  well-known 
courage  in  presence  of  the  foe.  Was  it  likely,  he  asked, 
that  he  who  had  a  career  before  him  would  attempt  so 
great  a  crime  as  that  of  selling  a  British  ship  to  the 
enemy  ? 

He  then  gave  a  brief  sketch  of  his  own  life,  and  as  far 
as  he  knew  it,  that  of  his  friend  and  almost  brother,  Dem 
— i.e.,  James  Eutherford,  captain  in  the  navy  of  a 
country  now  a  friendly  power.  He  sketched  the  unex- 
pected meeting  of  himself  and  Dem  at  Newfoundland,  a 
meeting,  he  added,  that  could  hardly  have  been  premedi- 
tated ;  how  he  was  taken  prisoner ;  admitted  that  he  had 
talked  of  old  times  j  and  added  that  he  would  prove  he 
hurried  on  board  as  soon  as  free  to  report  to  the  captain 
of  the  Dardanelle  the  presence  of  an  enemy's  ship  in  the 
adjoining  bay. 

"  It  might  seem  strange,"  he  said,  "  and  almost  impos- 
sible, that  the  mate  Harness  should  wish  to  swear  his — the 
prisoner's — life  away ;  but  undoubtedly  he  bore  a  grudge 
against  him  for  having  been  appointed  third  lieutenant  of 
the  Dardanelle  over  his — Harness's — head,  and  against 
even  the  wishes  of  his  uncle  the  captain. 


374  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

"  Mr.  Harness/'  he  continued,  "had  hinted  that  he — the 
prisoner — had  attempted  to  take  his  life.  He  would  now 
call  Josh,  who  was  then  a  boy,  to  tell  what  he  knew  of 
this." 

Josh,  when  called,  was  open-faced,  and  described  most 
graphically  all  the  tyranny  he  endured  from  the  mate 
Harness,  wholly  because  he  was  Mr.  Grant's  servant. 

At  the  prisoner's  desire  Harness  was  now  recalled, 
much  to  his  disgust,  and  the  two  witnesses — Josh  and  he 
— were  confronted. 

All  the  boy's  answers  were  so  frankly  given,  and 
Harness  prevaricated  so  much,  and  contradicted  himself 
so  often,  that  at  last  it  required  bat  the  last  straw  to 
break  the  camel's  back  of  his  evidence. 

That  straw  was  speedily  forthcoming. 

"  It  is  most  important  now,"  said  the  counsel  for  the 
defence, "  that  Mr.  Harness  shall  take  pen,  ink  and  paper, 
sit  down,  and  write  a  few  words  that  I  shall  dictate. 

Harness  sat  down  and  proceeded  to  do  as  told. 

The  counsel  dictated  the  first  two  words  one  by  one, 
and  Harness  wrote  them  down  boldly  enough. 

"I'll  be." 

The  counsel  dictated  the  next  word  letter  by  letter, 
r — e — v — e — n — g — e — d — 

"  I'll  be  revenged." 

Something  came  rushing  back  to  Harness's  memory 
now.  He  turned  pale  as  death,  and  would  have  laid 
down  the  pen. 


Like  a  Bird  on  the  Wave.  375 

But  the  president  ordered  him  to  go  on  writing : 
"  HI  be  revenged  on  you— H.  H." 

Harness  staggered  to  Lis  feet,  and  was  told  he  might 
stand  down. 

The  counsel  then  handed  the  line  that  Harness  had 
just  written  in  silence  to  the  president. 

Then  he  handed  him  the  card  with  the  self-same  words, 
which  Willie  had  picked  up  on  his  chest  of  drawers,  and 
kept  ever  since,  with  a  few  words  of  explanation. 

Josh  was  recalled,  and  gave  evidence  of  Harness's 
attempt  to  buy  him  over  as  a  witness  against  his  master 
before  the  shipwreck. 

Next  Cleaver  was  recalled,  and  the  prisoner  proceeded 
to  cross-question  him. 

He  answered  a  few  questions  doggedly,  then,  to  the 
surprise  of  all,  burst  out  with  the  following  exclama- 
tion : 

"  It's  no  use,  sir !  It's  no  use,  Mr.  President  and 
gentlemen  !  Jim  Cleaver's  a  bad  hat,  if  you  like.  He  7ms 
been  flogged  for  getting  drunk,  and  for  stealing  too,  but 
it  was  only  a  tot  of  rum  he  helped  himself  to.  Yes, 
Jim  Cleaver's  a  bad  hat,  but  he  isn't  goiug  to  swear  a 
fellow-creature's  life  away  at  the  bribe  o'  no  Mr.  Har- 
ness. Gentlemen,  as  far  as  I'm  concerned  the  prisoner  is 
innocent.  All  I  said  before  was  false,  and  I  retract  it. 
The  prisoner  and  the  foreign  officer  were  a-talking  when 
we  heard  them  of  old  schooldays.  Nothing  else,  s'help 
me !  and  the  reason  Mr.  Harness  took  me  with  him  that 


376  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

day  was  because  lie  carried  a  pistol,  and  was  afraid  if  he 
met  the  prisoner  he  would  shoot  him."     (Sensation.) 

The  president  here  arose. 

"  I  think,  gentlemen,  seeing  the  turn  affairs  have  taken, 
there  is  no  occasion  to  proceed  further  with  the  case,  and 
if  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution " 

Willie  held  up  his  hand. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  he  said,  "  but  I  hope — for  the  per- 
fect clearing  of  my  character — that  I  may  be  allowed  to 
call  one  other  and  most  important  witness/' 

"  Certainly,  certainly." 

A  smart-looking,  handsome,  dark-eyed  young  officer,  in 
the  uniform  of  a  captain  of  a  French  man-o'- war,  was  now 
ushered  in. 

He  bowed  to  all,  and  the  prisoner  addressed  him. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  ask  you  questions,"  he  said,  "  but 
desire  you  to  tell  the  court  simply  and  briefly  the  story 
of  our  boyhood,  and  of  what  occurred  between  yourself 
and  me  on  the  isle  of  Newfoundland." 

In  the  very  simplest  of  language,  Dem,  for  it  was  he, 
did  as  he  was  told,  and  concluded  amidst  the  murmured 
applause  of  the  court. 

The  prisoner  was  then  allowed  to  retire,  but  in  less 
than  five  minutes  was  recalled. 

Every  one  was  standing.  Willie  was  not  only  honour- 
ably acquitted,  but  complimented  by  the  president.  His 
sword  was  returned,  and  every  officer  of  the  court  shook 
him  by  the  hand. 

Poor  Willie  Grant !   Now  that  it  was  all  over,  he  could 


Like  a  Bird  on  the  Wave.  377 

not  prevent  the  tears  from  filling  lus  eyes,  and  was  glad 
when  the  surgeon  of  the  ship  took  him  away  below  to 
the  quiet  of  his  cabin. 

Lieutenant  Harness  was  ordered  under  instant  arrest. 
But  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  and  it  soon  transpired 
that  he  had  left  the  ship  in  a  shore  boat  half  an  hour 
before. 

He  was  never  seen  again — in  the  service. 

As  some  solatium  for  the  trials  he  had  come  through, 
Willie  Grant  received  a  private  letter  of  congratulations 
from  head-quarters,  with  thanks  for  the  services  he  had 
performed  during  the  Canadian  war,  and  the  very  same 
post  brought  his  promotion  to  the  rank  of  commander. 

#  *  JfC  *  * 

But  peace  had  come,  to  shower  her  blessings  on  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  for  many  a  long  year  the 
olive  branch  would  be  honoured  as  much  as  the  laurel 
leaf. 

Then  something  had  occurred  that  decided  Willie  to 
retire  from  the  service.  Old  Squire  McBride  had  gone 
the  way  of  all  the  earth  at  last,  and  left  our  hero  all  his 
broad  acres  and  woods  and  forests,  and  islands  at  sea. 

Property  has  its  duties,  if  it  be  but  the  possession  of  a 
pet  dog  or  cat ;  so  having  so  large  and  valuable  an  estate 
to  look  after,  Willie  Grant  must  needs  retire.  An  active 
life  at  sea  makes  a  man  active  on  shore,  and  Willie's  life 
for  a  time  was  really  a  very  pleasant  one. 

The  sudden  elevation  to  opulence  from  comparative 
poverty  might  have  turned  the  heads  of  many  young 


378  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

men.  It  did  not  turn  Willie's.  Not  that  he  despised 
riches.  No  one  does,  and  no  one  ought  io,  if  only  for  the 
good  that  may  be  done  thereby. 

Harthill  estate  had  been  greatly  neglected  owing  to  the 
illness  of  its  late  proprietor,  and  years  must  elapsjs  before 
the  farms  and  holdings  thereon  would  look  thriving  and 
wholesome.  But  the  fine  old  house  itself,  with  its  de- 
lightful outlook  away  across  the  broad  Atlantic,  and  the 
grounds  around  it,  were  speedily  put  in  order. 

Josh  was  installed  as  Willie — now  Squire — Grant's 
head  man,  overseer,  and  bailiff, — and  a  happy  young  man 
was  Josh ! 

Willie  did  not  forget  old  friends  and  schoolfellows,  and 
Granite  and  Foumart  were  granted  leases  of  two  of  the 
best  farms  on  the  estate ;  so  they  were  happy  too. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  our  hero's  father  took  up  his 
residence  at  Harthill,  that  the  easiest  chair  was  his,  and 
the  most  comfortable  room  in  the  house. 

Poor  Poodah  was  killed  by  an  accident.  Both  Dem 
and  Willie  were  with  him  at  the  last,  for  he  lived  but 
two  brief  hours  after  the  injuries,  which  were  of  the 
most  terrible  description. 

His  story  had  been  a  strange  one.  He  had  first  heard 
of  the  star  on  the  mountain  from  old  Saunders  the  recluse, 
who  had  been  a  soldier,  and  servant  to  Colonel  Ruther- 
ford. His  cupidity  was  excited,  for  he  had  all  an  Oriental's 
love  for  diamonds,  and  he  determined,  if  ever  the  chance 
occurred,  to  go  in  search  of  the  supposed  jewel  and  the 
hidden  gold.  He  breathe!  not  a  word  of  this,  however, 


'Like  a  Bird  on  the  Wave.  379 

to  Saunders.  He  really,  it  seems,  had  found  the  gold,  and 
buried  it  in  another  place,  buried  it  for  his  boy  Jem, 
whom  he  loved  with  all  the  deep  undying  affection  of  a 
dog  for  a  kind  master.  Poor  simple  Poodah,  he  knew 
nothing  of  the  law  of  treasure-trove  !  That  treasure- 
trove  is  buried  still  !  The  diamond,  if  diamond  it  be,  he 
did  not  find  :  probably  it  was  covered  up  in  the  debris 
from  Poodah's  digging.  But,  strange  to  say,  some  years 
after  this  strange  Indian's  death,  and  after  a  night  of 
storm  and  rain,  the  star  once  more  appeared  on  the 
mountain,  and  they  tell  me  it  is  to  be  seen  there  now, 
though  only  on  certain  nights,  and — so  the  superstitious 
Highlanders  say — only  by  the  good. 

There  was  great  rejoicing  in  the  glen,  and  in  all  the 
straths  and  glens  around,  when  the  young  Squire  arrived 
from  London,  bringing  home  with  him  as  his  bride  the 
fair  young  Etheldine  Fraser. 

And  some  months  after  this  an  event  of  only  secondary 
importance  to  this  occurred,  for  a  yacht  anchored  in  the 
bay  of  Glengair,  bringing  a  party  of  Willie's  old  friends  to 
spend  a  week  at  Harthill.  Dick-Rae  (the  Hon.  de  Grey) 
was  there,  looking  as  merry  and  jolly  as  ever.  Dem  was 
there,  Captain  Oldrey  and  Dr.  Carver ;  and  last,  but  not 
least,  who  but  plain  Jack  Williams,  dear  rattling  Old 
Benbow ! 

There  was  so  much  to  be  done,  so  much  to  be  said  and 
seen,  that  it  is  no  wonder  the  week  was  extended  to  a 
fortnight,  and  that  even  that  time  flew  speedily  by. 

But  the  yacht  must  go  at  last.     She  sailed  one  sum- 


380  In  the  Dashing  Days  of  Old. 

mer's  evening,  and  Ethel  and  Willie  sat  watching  her 
from  the  cliffs  of  Dungrat,  as  she  headed  away  south- 
ward and  west,  away  and  away  and  away,  lessening  and 
lessening,  till  she  looked  like  a  bird  on  the  wave. 

Then  slowly  homeward,  hand  in  hand,  they  went, 
as  gloaming  began  to  deepen  around  them,  and  love's 
own  star  grew  out  of  the  west. 


University  of  California  Library 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


' 


009  602  485  6 


